The Potions Apprentice
by Murai-Sakura
Summary: AU Harry is abused by the Dursleys. he hopes to be able to save himself somewhat through the use of potions since underage magic isn't allowed. Will Snape help or sabotage him? Set after PoA - Snape as mentor - no slash - Abusive Dursleys - No Triwizard tournament and Horcruxes are not a thing. Trigger warning for suicidal thoughts. Graphic violence. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

_Chapter 1_

_Hello everyone._

_This is my attempt at writing a Snape mentor Fic as I have come to love these. I did my best to update my writing style by not trying to jump to the juicy parts as soon as possible and just taking my time. I'm curious to see what you guys think!_

**Disclaimer: All works of Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling and not me. This is just a work of fanfiction.**

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**The Potions Apprentice**

**Chapter 1**

Harry lay slumped against the wall of the smallest bedroom in the house on number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. He felt deflated and listless and his aching body seemed to pulse to the rhythm of his heartbeat. He groaned a little, trying to shift his weight to get in a more comfortable position but he might as well not have bothered. The pain was everywhere. He sighed and wished that one day in the near future, his newfound godfather would be acquitted of the false charges he was accused of because of his once best friend, Peter Pettigrew.

But right now, that day seemed as if it would never come. Harry carefully examined his current state. He mostly suffered from heavy bruising and abrasions, but he also had large welts on his back where he felt some blood soak through his much too large shirt. His ankle felt as if it might have been sprained, caused when he tried to get away from his uncle Vernon's malicious beatings. He shouldn't have tried that. Where was he going to go anyways? It's not as if he had much of a choice in the matter.

His green eyes ran across the items in his room. Since finding out that he was, in fact, not allowed to use magic outside of Hogwarts as long as he was underage, the Dursleys hadn't bothered locking up his trunk and school supplies anymore. His wand lay casually on his nightstand, next to the photobook Hagrid had given him. Little use would that do him now. He was not going to alleviate his pain, only to get expelled from Hogwarts. It wouldn't be long now. He just had to lay low for another couple of weeks and then he could return to his actual home for his fourth year.

Harry started to slowly scramble to his feet when he saw a white bird fly towards the Dursley Residence. His owl had been gone for a while, which was for the best really. He couldn't take care of her here. Sure, he had taken loads of feed for Hedwig 'home' but he must have miscalculated seeing how he had run out after just 1 month. So he had sent Hedwig to Hogwarts, trusting Dumbledore to take care of her. That way, his uncle could no longer complain about her screeching, anyways.

But there she was, so Harry got up to open the window for her, his aching bones protesting heavily. After the window was opened, Hedwig swooped in and landed gracefully on top of her empty cage. Harry stroked her feathers softly and she gently nipped at his fingers before extending her foot.

Harry took the yellowish envelope she had carried and smiled when he saw that it was his letter from Hogwarts, specifying what supplies he would be needing for the year to come. There was nothing out of the ordinary in the letter. It was just a short list of additional books and a set of dress robes.

_The Standard Book Of Spells Grade 4 by Miranda Goshawk_

_The Dark Forces: A Guide To Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble_

So apparently, most books he would require were the same ones he had already been using in his previous years. This would be a cheap year indeed. Not that it mattered much. He had an enormous treasure pile of money below Gringotts, after all. Not that he would ever tell the Dursleys about this, of course. He could have bought a new broomstick for Quidditch with that little to purchase but his godfather had only recently given him the Firebolt so that was unnecessary.

Either way, the list had given him some new energy. He couldn't wait to see Ron and Hermione again. Hell, he would be very happy to see Severus Snape himself right now. He would just need to be patient. However, he also needed to talk to his aunt and uncle. He needed to get to Diagon Alley and wasn't sure how that was going to work out otherwise.

"I'm sorry, Girl," he said to his snowy owl. "I don't have anything for you to eat." He gestured around his room, signifying that no food was to be found indeed. He did, however, present her with his glass of water in which she dipped her beak gratefully. She drank what she needed before Harry sent her off again, watching as Hedwig disappeared out of sight. He sighed deeply - feeling his ribs twinge just a bit because of the heavy exhale - and lifted himself off the windowsill, closing the window once more and turning to the door, starting to make the dreaded journey downstairs.

After he opened the door, he could hear the sound of the telly on downstairs. He hesitated slightly, knowing the family would not look to him kindly if he disturbed their mind-numbing ritual of watching other people experience things that they would either hate or love to experience themselves. However, if he postponed this, the chance existed that he would not be able to get his books on time. He didn't want to start off his year with detention if he could help it. He snuck downstairs, determined to not make any sound until he absolutely had to. He expertly dodged the squeaky steps and landed catlike at the bottom. He then waited in the hallway, listening for the commercials. When he could finally hear how a woman was using a cleaning product that could undoubtedly be used on any and all stains and have an immediate result, he walked inside the living room, his shoulders heavy with anticipation and his head respectfully lowered. Dudley ran past him in an effort to reach the loo and be back in time before commercials were over. He sneered at Harry when he saw him but made no comment since he wanted to be back in time for whatever it was he was watching.

"Excuse me, Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia," he began, as respectfully as he could.

"What is it, Boy?!" Vernon asked, clearly disgruntled that he was reminded of Harry's existence.

"I was wondering if I could please go to London, to buy my school supplies," Harry asked submissively, his eyes daring to look at his uncle with hope. Vernon just narrowed his eyes.

"Do you honestly expect me to go into a shop for freaks like you, willingly?" he asked dangerously.

"No, Uncle Vernon," Harry replied quickly. "I was only hoping that you could drop me off at Woking station, so I can get there myself."

Vernon eyed Harry up and down. The boy had a dishevelled look about him as always. The chaos of hair on his head could do nothing to hide the bruises colouring his face, even with his head bowed. The hand-shaped marks on his neck left nothing to the imagination either. In the end, he would have no choice but to allow the boy to purchase what he needed. If he refused, he would most likely get some unwanted company soon. But the boy's face and neck needed to heal first so Vernon thought he might as well make the boy squirm a bit before he agreed.

"If you are good this week and finish all the chores you are presented with, I will take you to the station on Saturday," He said plainly. "I will not be giving you any money, though! And to pay for the petrol it will cost me, you will only get food once every other day, is that clear?!"

Harry nodded vigorously. This was more than he could have hoped for. He must've caught his uncle in a good mood, he thought. It was at that moment that Dudley pushed past Harry, knocking him to the ground roughly and jumped into the sofa which grunted painfully under the sudden weight that was plunged into its belly.

"Now up with you. And don't show yourself unless we ask you to," Vernon growled, his eyes already glued back on the tv.

Harry picked himself up off the ground and obeyed. He gritted his teeth so hard that he thought the Dursleys might hear them crack. It was immensely hard to push down that Gryffindor pride that had started welling up inside of him since he was eleven, but he had to do it for his own good. He needed to make it back to Hogwarts and to do that, he needed to play the part of the meek, dutiful and ever submissive Harry Potter. Not that he could change that even if he had wanted to. Underage magic and all that. And physically, there was absolutely no way that Harry could ever hope to overpower Vernon. So he would just need to endure the beatings, the neglect and the endless list of chores until he was of age and able to fight back.

Once upstairs, Harry flopped down on his bed, rubbing his arm where Dudley had knocked him over. His eyes glazed over for just a short while as he imagined his parents to still be alive. Surely they would have loved him. They would have never deprived him of food and basic care. They would never hurt him and they would have happily taken him to Diagon Alley to get his supplies with him. Why was he dealt this lot in life? But no, that was all the time he allowed himself to dwell on his miserable existence. He would not wallow in self-pity. His mother sacrificed herself for Harry and he needed to honour her for that. If only he could help himself somewhat without using magic to do so. This constant agony was sure to break him at some point.

Then his gaze fell on his stack of Hogwarts books and landed on one in particular.

_Magical Drafts and Potions_ by _Arsenius Jigger_ lay haphazardly thrown on top of _Unfogging the Future_ by _Cassandra Vablatsky_. A big blue stain was visible in its right corner, undoubtedly from a potion that had spilt after not having corked it properly. Harry's eyes widened. _That's it_! A small smile tugged at his lips. He was not allowed to cast any spells but surely, drinking a potion or two should pose no problem, right? His smile dropped quickly, though. He was not very good at potions - if he could believe Snape - and asking Hermione for help would surely ring bells he didn't want to be rung. He pondered for a moment before sighing, his ribs aching in the process. Perhaps he had bruised one of those as well.

He had no choice. He would have to start studying potions a lot harder than he ever had before. Perhaps if he managed to do that, he could not only keep himself alive and perhaps even slightly comfortable, but he might even get grades good enough to get an OWL in the subject which he would need if he ever wanted to become an Auror. Seeing as he had nothing better to do anyway, he grabbed the book he had first grasped in his first year of Hogwarts and started studying, beginning with page one. The basics would probably help him greatly.

* * *

The week had been nothing if not rough. Harry's uncle Vernon had maliciously written an enormous list of chores, several feet long for Harry to complete during the week if he wanted to be allowed to go shopping on Saturday. Among other things he had fixed the roof; mowed the lawn; trimmed the hedges; removed all weeds; planted new flowers; painted the garden shed as well as organised its insides; painted Dudley's room; sanded and varnished a second-hand cabinet aunt Petunia had purchased from one of her neighbours as well as cooked and cleaned the house every day. It was nothing short of a miracle but Harry had managed to do everything on the list.

Not only that but Uncle Vernon had beat him less severely over the week. He had obviously avoided Harry's face and neck as well as his lower arms and legs which didn't leave a whole lot to be used as a punching bag. Not that Uncle Vernon hadn't tried but it seemed as if he stopped a lot quicker when he had to be careful. That fact had certainly helped Harry to complete that long list of chores. Nonetheless, Harry felt the ache throughout his entire upper body and was secretly wishing he could have a pain reliever potion right about now. Luckily, sleep came easily enough because of the exhaustion he felt after each day full of labour.

Finally, it had come, though. Saturday! True to his word, Vernon had all but shoved Harry in the backseat of the car, and had taken off like a madman. The entire way to the station, not a word was said. While the silence was definitely tense, Harry was thankful for it. He didn't have the energy to try and uphold a pleasant conversation, constantly fearing that if he said something wrong, Vernon would just turn the car around. When they finally reached the station, Vernon turned around in his seat and sneered at Harry, his eyes bulging, and that purple vein seemingly ready to pop at any time.

"I will be back here at six," he said. "Be here on time or find your own way home."

Harry nodded dutifully and got out of the car quickly, his emptied trunk with him so he could fill it up again. As he watched Uncle Vernon speed off, almost knocking an old lady off her feet in the process, Harry couldn't help but smile. An entire day to himself! No chores, no beatings and no Dursleys. Gleefully, he made his way through the intricate system that was public transportation. It took him about thirty minutes to get to London. There, he took the underground for another forty minutes until he finally walked the last bit before seeing The Leaky Cauldron emerge at last. He made himself as presentable as he could, which honestly wasn't very. He didn't know if he hoped to bump into someone right now, or not at all. Either way, he went inside the Leaky Cauldron, nodded to Tom - receiving a curtly nod himself - and made his way to the back quickly before anyone could exclaim, 'Look, that's Harry Potter!'.

As soon as Harry had tapped the stones and Diagon Alley appeared he felt truly at home for the first time in many weeks. The alley was bustling with witches and wizards as always. Children were dragging their parents to 'Sugarplums' sweets shop' just like they would in the muggle world; A small group of babbling witches came out of 'Obscurus Books' all holding a copy of the same book and there was a small crowd of teenagers Harry's age in front of 'Broomstix', admiring the Firebolt. Harry grinned, knowing he had one himself. He evaded all the shops for now and went straight to Gringotts. The scenery was very much the usual. He presented a goblin with his key who scrutinized if for a few seconds before leading Harry to the usual cart. The rollercoaster ride was over quickly. Harry might be getting used to these rides but they were still not something he looked forward to. He much preferred to keep the meagre meal he had eaten the day before contained inside of his stomach. After retrieving the money he needed, plus a bit of extra pocket change he allowed himself, he made his way back into the hustle and bustle that truly was Diagon Alley.

First, he went to Madam Malkin's for his dress robes. She tutted and measured and did her thing. Not even half an hour later, Harry had his dress robes. They were kind of silly but Harry guessed they looked alright. After that, he went to Flourish and Blotts to get the two books he needed. He found them easily enough seeing how they were both stalled near the entrance, probably so all school children could pick one up easily, but Harry didn't leave it at that. Thinking about his potions idea, he went to the Alchemy section of the bookstore to look around. He ended up also getting:

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_

_Advanced Potion Making_

_Potion Opuscule_

He would probably need Advanced Potion Making later on in his education anyway so what did it matter if he already bought it. No harm in looking, he thought. Harry had also wanted to buy 'Most Potente Potions' but was not allowed to because he was underage. Damn it! Well, nothing a visit to the restricted section underneath his invisibility cloak couldn't fix. With his new loot safely locked inside of his trunk, Harry made a beeline towards Slug & Jiggers Apothecary next. He bought some extra vials both glass and crystal and a collapsible cauldron just because it was so easy to take with him. Yes, he already had a cauldron but he wanted to be able to make multiple potions at a time if needed. Some potions could take days, if not weeks to brew. Granted, Harry should have paid more attention back in the day and was unsure which potions would take that long to brew except for Polyjuice but he knew that the option was there and that he should be prepared for it. He doubted that Snape would lend him an extra cauldron.

Harry glanced at his watch. It was hardly 1 o' clock and it would be a while before he had to meet up with his uncle Vernon. So he thought he might as well look for a place to get a decent meal lest he faints from hunger. Especially seeing how he wasn't going to get another meal today. He looked around somewhat, past the many groups of people - obviously families and friends - and felt a sharp pang of loneliness constrict his chest. His eyes fell to the ground shortly before he bravely picked himself up again and with steady strides walked towards what looked to be a small bistro with a terrace overlooking the busy Alley. It looked cosy enough. Harry looked up to read the name plaque. Madam Pippins Nips and Nibbles. Only one of the three terrace tables was taken at the moment by what seemed to be a young couple sharing a dish. Harry did not see any 'reserved' signs on either free table and decided to seat himself at the table farthest away from the couple fawning over each other. From inside the bistro, a menu came flying through an open window and landed on Harry's table, opened at the lunch section. Harry smiled to himself. He loved magic so much. He scanned the page almost drooling from just looking at the descriptions. In the end, he couldn't decide between a platter of Fish and Chips or a Shepherd's pie.

"Can I help you, dearie?" A short, plump blond woman with big green eyes and red, poufy cheeks greeted him cheerfully. "Or do you need some more time?" she added when she saw Harry's doubting face.

"I can't decide," Harry admitted. "Everything looks delicious." His eyes scanned the page quickly again. "But I'll take the fish and chips as well as some pumpkin juice please."

The woman beamed at him. "Coming right up, sweetie," She exclaimed before swishing around with a grace you would not expect from a woman her size, and disappearing inside. The menu followed her as if it were a well-behaved pet bird.

Harry sighed contentedly as he sat back in his plush covered chair and pulled out one of his newly purchased books. He decided to go for Potion Opuscule. He wondered if he could find some recipes that might benefit him in the future in there. It didn't take long before he was fully engrossed in his reading. He scanned the pages eagerly, only taking his eyes off of them briefly when his food arrived to say, "Thank you, Miss."

In front of him was placed an abnormally large portion of food that Harry eyed hungrily. A pitcher of pumpkin juice was set across from him where he could easily reach it. He tried eating while watching the crowd but felt that it made him feel everything _but_ cheerful so he went back to reading his text. This book was somewhat elementary but Harry liked that. He would need a lot of practice before he could even begin making sense of Advanced Potion Making. But _this_ book was easy enough to understand, especially since it had been written by the same author as his very first Potions book. The one he had gone through entirely again back home. At least twice. Harry was so engrossed in his reading that he hadn't even noticed a figure stopping at his table, while Harry happily kept eating.

"Well well, if it isn't Mr Potter," a sullen voice droned. Slightly spooked, Harry looked up to meet dark, piercing eyes. In front of him stood a man with black, greasy hair and a hooked nose who was always clothed in black robes of the extra billowing kind. His frosty gaze always communicated a whispered threat and Harry couldn't help but swallow thickly as his potions professor raised an eyebrow.

"Professor Snape," he uttered unbelievably. "Nice to see you." He wasn't sure if he meant it.

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_Well, that concludes chapter 1. Be sure to let me know what you think. Thanks for reading :)_

_Revised last on 19/09/2020._


	2. Chapter 2

_Wow, guys, I am blown away by your positive responses. Thank you so much! And to answer one reviewer's question: Harry will indeed be a regular wizard with nothing but the power he received from JK Rowling. Ugh, which reminds me!_

_I don't own Harry Potter in any way. JK Rowling owns them all._

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**Chapter 2**

He was Professor Severus Snape, employed at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. With the pride of a peacock as well as the strut of one, he traversed Diagon Alley with a purpose. He needed supplies from the apothecary and nothing more. It would be a quick trip and then he could just floo right back to Hogwarts to finish the last potions Poppy needed for her stock. Naturally, Snape had expected to see many rambunctious children happily buy their school necessities and was always inwardly pleased when they would cower at the sight of his sneer, be it because they already knew him or because of his outstanding personality. Even some of the children's parents moved out of his way willingly, no doubt because they too had once had the pleasure of being in his warm presence.

On his way to the apothecary, he saw one child quietly sitting at a table, facing a mountain of food, no doubt waiting for his friends to come to eat it with him. And who else could it have been but the golden boy? He was reading something with great interest. No doubt a Quidditch book of sorts. Snape just huffed and continued his stride towards his one and only destination.

"So, I have two hundred strands of Asian dragon hair; two pounds of Armadillo bile; thirty piles of dried nettle; three pots of scarab beetles _live_; fifty Sophopherus beans and ten portions of wormwood," the shopkeeper repeated needlessly. Snape knew exactly what he was buying. Some of the Hogwarts stock had run low and for some reason, Dumbledore deemed it Snape's job to stock up. He nodded coldly and paid for his supplies with the galleons provided to him by Dumbledore. With an elegant swish of his wand, he shrunk the load of new supplies and put them in his pocket. He stepped out of the shop again and made his way back, passing Harry Potter once more. He was still alone. The food that had been in front of him moments ago was nearly gone as was the pitcher of pumpkin juice. This struck him as rather odd. Out of sheer curiosity, which was one of his very few flaws, he glanced at the book Potter was reading and found himself somewhat amazed had he not been insulted as well.

He was reading _Potion's Opuscule_. This book was not at all mandatory for the Hogwarts curriculum nor had it ever been. And Potter was reading it with great interest as if Potions was his favourite subject. Snape glared a little. Had the child always been interested in Potions and did he just pretend to be a dunderhead out of pure maliciousness? Snape had wanted to just floo back and forget about the whole thing, but his ego could not let this go entirely. He felt the need to catch Potter red-handed. With some luck, the boy would be so startled, he would fess up to everything immediately.

"Well, well if it isn't Mr Potter," he droned, pleased at the intimidating sound his voice was surely emanating. Potter looked startled for sure but had the decency to look up from his book, to meet Snape's piercing gaze. He was no doubt surprised to find his most hated Professor here.

"Professor Snape," the boy uttered as if it was a unicorn that suddenly stood before him. "Nice to see you." Snape almost snorted at the comment. People rarely thought it was nice to see him and the odd ones who did were never Gryffindors.

"Where are your Gryffindor friends, Potter?" Snape asked, trying not to spit out his name, though it was so easy to do so. The boy looked startled, those green eyes fleeing from Snape's gaze.

"They didn't come with me, Professor Snape," he stated matter-of-factly. Snape sneered.

"Your family?" Snape persisted, hoping to get the mandatory pleasantries out of the way soon. Why did he have to stop here again? He could've been back in his quarters by now.

Potter shrugged. Wat a terrible habit indeed. Ineloquent to say the least. "They're muggles, sir," Potter explained. "They don't like coming to a place as magical as this." He needlessly gestured with his hand all over Diagon Alley. Snape almost rolled his eyes at the unnecessary movement but managed to simply growl under his breath.

"What are you reading, Potter?" he asked, suddenly to the point, tired of speaking of nonsense. Though if he had to admit, his question was highly unnecessary as well seeing how he already knew the answer.

"_Potion's Opuscule_, sir" Potter stammered nonetheless, showing Snape the cover as if he wouldn't know exactly what the cover of that particular book looked like.

"It is not on the school curriculum, Potter," Snape challenged. "Why are you reading that particular book? Looking for something to give you an even greater advantage over your fellow students?" Snape leaned in dangerously, the shadow he cast almost blocking out the sun entirely.

Harry frowned and seemed to remember the dynamic he and this particular professor usually shared.

"For your information, Professor –" he pronounced the p in professor a tad too harshly here "- I would like to perform better in potions so I can get an OWL in the subject when the time comes." And there it was. Potter had that challenging look in his eyes that could only come from the pompous offspring of James Potter himself. Even though those eyes were a spitting image of Lilly's. He tried not to dwell on that, lest he would start feeling guilty for berating young Mr Potter. Snape scoffed at the boy in front of him.

"That will remain to be seen, Mr Potter," he replied in his threateningly low tone of voice, the animosity dripping from every syllable. And with that, he had felt that everything he had wanted to say had been said. He couldn't stand to be in The Boy-Who-Lived-Because-His-Mother-Died's presence. With a swish of his cloak, he turned around and stalked away quickly, leaving a slightly angered yet exhilarated Harry in his wake.

* * *

What in the world was up with Snape? Why did he have to show up at Diagon Alley at this exact time? Harry felt a very familiar sense of annoyance rise up inside of him. But he had to admit: after almost two months at the Dursleys, being the submissive house-elf he was forced to be, it felt good to be able to stand up to someone like Snape, and only get a sneer or a glare in response. He couldn't even take points from Gryffindor yet. It seemed as if Snape had believed Harry, somewhat, not expecting the true reason behind his sudden interest in the dungeon bat's subject. Harry's future year would no doubt be much easier with a fair professor who could help him if he botched something but that was not in the cards for him. He would just have to make it through with what he had at his disposal.

Sighing deeply, Harry put the book he had been reading back in his trunk and closed it. He went inside to pay for his food when he noticed some people sitting there that had the same order he had. Their portions were all much smaller than his had been. Harry felt his face flush slightly when he realized that the nice waitress probably felt that he needed to put on more weight. A sentiment he had often heard before. Grateful, he paid for the meal and added a nice tip.

"Thank you very much and see you soon!" the witch exclaimed happily. Harry looked over his shoulder, smiled at her and left so he could get back home. He was sure that he had plenty of time left, but he didn't want to risk being late. His uncle Vernon would surely blow up at him.

* * *

As soon as Harry had gotten back home, he rushed to his bedroom as fast as he could with his heavy trunk, careful not to break any of his new phials, wrapped carefully in his dress robes. He had pulled out his book again and flipped back to the page where he had left off. He went to lay on his stomach on his bed with his legs bent frivolously in the air. He had just found an interesting passage on how to make sure that your potions didn't expire before they should when he heard angry footsteps come up the stairs. He gulped and tried to forget the brief but strangely blissful encounter he had had with professor Snape so he could step back into that submissive role he had to play. Sure enough, his door soon flung open to reveal the red face of his uncle, complete with purple vein and all. Oh dear, what had he done now?

"Boy!" he bellowed. "What are you doing, cowering in here?!" it didn't sound as if he really wanted a reply to his question. He rushed forward as fast as a man of his size could carry him and gave Harry a foul slap across his face before he had even been able to get off his bed. His lip split and some droplets of blood landed on his new book. He looked up at his uncle with confusion and pain in his eyes.

"Gone a whole day and you think you can come back and go straight to your room? Boy, you need to get started on your bloody chores!"

Harry scrambled to his feet as fast as he could and bowed his head apologetically. "Sorry, Uncle. I-"

"No backtalk, boy!" the fierce man bellowed, presenting Harry with a swift kick to his stomach causing the lightweight boy to fall back a few steps before he landed on his backside, cradling his hurting stomach. He tried his hardest not to vomit. He really needed the food that was in his stomach right now. Giving him not a moment's respite, Vernon grabbed Harry by the hair and dragged him down the stairs. Harry lost his footing halfway but this didn't deter Vernon who kept dragging Harry down, causing the steps to dig painfully into Harry's knees as he scrambled to try and regain balance. His scalp felt as if it was ready to come off. Harry was aware of the pain stopping when he was thrown into the kitchen.

"Make us our dinner, now!" Vernon shouted, not sparing another glance as he turned towards the living room and disappeared. Harry sighed, steeled his resolve and got to work.

* * *

Harry had safely made it to King's Cross in one piece. Well, more or less so. He was very early at platform 9 ¾. They were supposed to be there at 11 as always but he was dropped off way in advance. It appeared that the Dursleys couldn't be rid of him fast enough. That same morning, Uncle Vernon had made sure to remind Harry one last time of his place in the hierarchy, which was all the way at the bottom. He was sure that if the Dursleys had had a pet, it would be above Harry, be it dog or goldfish. Harry checked his watch and saw that it was now around ten o'clock. He was already seated in the train that was ready to take all the students – new and old – back to Hogwarts. Soon, Harry would truly be home again.

He once again found himself lost in his potions books, this time reading Magical Drafts and Potions for the umpteenth time. He couldn't be sure what kind of info he could extract from the textbook after having lost count as to how many times he read it, but it did seem as if he picked up on new details he had missed before every time he read the book. He felt as if he could probably brew almost every potion in the book by heart now but if he could do it flawlessly… well, he wasn't sure. His eyes were skimming the all too familiar words eagerly when he heard a voice.

"Blimey Harry, are you already studying?" A familiar tall redhead moved to sit across from Harry, freckles adorning his nose. Harry grinned sheepishly and put the book down on the table in front of him.

"Just a bit bored," He shrugged. "I was here early".

"Yeah, but Harry, potions?" Ron asked incredulously. "We hate potions!" Harry tried not to roll his eyes.

"It's not so bad, Ron," he defended. "I feel like I should try to do better this year. You know, with OWL's coming up next year and all. I'd rather not be too far behind." Ron just stared at him, open-mouthed.

"Hermione has a bad influence on you, mate," He stated matter-of-factly, shaking his head. "You've gone barkin' mad!" Harry shifted uncomfortably. As if summoned by the sound of her name, a bushy-haired brunette entered Harry and Ron's compartment. When she saw the potions textbook sitting on the table, flipped open as if in use, she squealed in delight.

"Oh, Harry! Well done! So you're _finally_ ready to take your education seriously!"

"Hey!" Harry practically yelled a bit hurt because of the unnecessary comment. "I've been taking it seriously since the start. Stuff just keeps happening!" Hermione pursed her lips as if she was not quite done taunting Harry but saw that she probably shouldn't for the moment.

"Sorry Harry. Of course, you're right," She apologized. "It's just unusual for you to already be studying before school has already begun." Glee filled her eyes as she took note of the contents that lay before her. "Oh, potions, huh?" she recognized immediately. "I had not seen that in you."

Harry rolled his eyes. "It's the one subject I fear I'm not good enough at for my OWL's next year," he explained. "And since I want to become an Auror, I need it."

"That makes sense," Ron said absent-mindedly, waving out of their window. Harry followed his gaze to see Molly Weasley standing in the crowd of parents, waving off her large array of children. When she saw Harry look her way, she offered him a warm smile which he genuinely returned. And then they were off. When Harry looked back, Hermione was already thumbing through his book. Harry let her do so for a while.

"Aren't you excited about what we are going to be making this year, Harry?"

If Harry was entirely honest, he was far more excited for classes like Defence Against the Dark arts but he just nodded.

"Do you have any questions I can help with?" Hermione asked. Actually, now that she mentioned it, Harry did have some questions that he dared not ask Snape since he probably should've asked said questions during his first year.

"Yes," he answered shortly but eagerly, before taking his book back from Hermione and flipping to the page he had in mind. He landed on the recipe for a _Sleeping Draught_.  
"Here," he pointed. "At step nine it says to leave to brew for seventy minutes but then it says that the time actually depends on the cauldron." Hermione nodded vigorously. "So how can you be sure it's done?"

"Fantastic question Harry," She praised. "It's actually quite easy, you can-"

"Stoooooop," Ron groaned. "could you please keep this kind of talk for when we arrive at school and I can go do something else? You're boring me." Hermione shot him a destructive glare but Harry just grinned and put his book away.

"Alright Ron, have it your way," he said. "It's time to go hunt down the trolley witch anyways. I'm starving!"

* * *

Harry was very unable to focus on the sorting that year. He wanted food desperately. He hadn't eaten too much from the witch's trolley as to not rouse any suspicions but he had barely eaten anything at all since his visit to Diagon Alley. He had gotten all the water he needed which he sometimes had used gratefully to fill his empty stomach but when it came to food, he had gotten one more sandwich made of stale bread and sweaty cheese on Tuesday and that had been it. To say he was starving was not an overstatement at all. It was, in fact, most likely true. So he stared silently at his empty plate, praying for the sorting hat not to take too much time with the students this year. Suddenly, he felt someone jab him painfully between the ribs at the exact same spot where his aunt had managed to hit him with her frying pan that same morning. Harry managed to only grunt slightly.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Ron asked. "You seem to be very far away." Harry noticed that Hermione was listening in as well.

"Just hungry," he whispered, trying not to attract attention to himself. "Can't wait for the food to come." He grinned boyishly and hoped it was enough to distract his friends. It was, thank Merlin, and so he did his best to at least appear interested for the remainder of the sorting process, and Dumbledore's odd speech. At one time he shot a glance at the teachers' table and noticed that for some reason, Snape was staring at him intently. Even when Harry accidentally met his gaze, Snape did not look away. His eyes seemed to darken even more and if looks could kill, Voldemort would no longer have to fear him because he would be dead now. Eventually, Harry looked away and dared not look up there again. _Now,_ what was Snape's problem?

And then finally! Food! Oh, the feast was absolutely glorious. Everything Harry could have imagined was there. He ate as much as his shrunken stomach could possibly hold, which, unfortunately, was not that much. But surely that would improve. Ron, on the other hand, just didn't seem to stop eating. Hermione shot disapproving glances at the redhead every now and then but he either didn't notice or didn't care.

"You would think you don't get fed at home," Hermione sneered at Ron while he kept shovelling food in his mouth obviously to her disgust. Harry grinned forcedly, secretly jealous that even with the low income the Weasleys had, their children always had a full stomach and a warm bed.

Speaking of beds, Harry was so happy to be able to jump into his own at the end of the evening. It was freshly made with linens that smelled like a summer's day after a heavy rainstorm. His trunk had already been brought up to his room per the norm and was sitting at the end of his bed. He was exhausted! And, apparently, so was Ron. As soon as the redhead hit his pillow he started snoring like a lumberjack. Harry grinned at the familiar sound that had accompanied his nights so often already. He too climbed into his haven of comfort, rested his head on his pillow and drifted off into a not so peaceful sleep.

"_Freak!" yelled Uncle Vernon. "Because of you, your parents are dead!" a blow to the head followed. "Many more people are going to die because of you," he then whispered, his voice eerily calm compared to his outburst before. He punched Harry viciously in the gut, causing him to double over in pain. "And it's all because of your freakish disability. This curse, you have brought upon my family," Harry spat out blood as Vernon threw him to the ground. "why don't you just go ahead and die?"  
And then Vernon laughed._

The cruel sound echoed long in Harry's ears, even after he woke up, panting as if he had just run a marathon. He was sweating profusely and his head was pounding. When he opened his eyes, he sat upright, staring into the darkness. Thankfully it would seem he had made no sound because none of the other boys were awake.

He blinked a couple of times, trying to chase away the tears that were threatening to fall. Once the first one would come, more would undoubtedly follow and he wanted to prevent that at all costs. The nightmare was a tad odd. It seemed very real but Vernon had only truly said half of the things he had yelled in Harry's dream. Where the other half came from, he had no idea. Harry sighed deeply, calming himself down and rubbed the sore spot on his abdomen where Vernon had viciously kicked him the previous morning. But he was safe here and had nothing to fear for the rest of the school year. He once more let his head hit his pillow and allowed himself one more glance toward the moon he could see through the window before he closed his eyes. This time, he was met with dreamless sleep.

* * *

_That was it for now. Next time will be Snape's first lesson of the year! I am so happy with all the people who followed and/ or favourited my story and especially happy with those who took the time to review. Thank you all. It was because of you I did my best to get a new chapter out already. But I'm not going to manage that every day!_

_Please review!_

**_Revised last on 23/09/2020_**


	3. Chapter 3

_ So I am back at it with another chapter. I was enjoying writing so much that I already whipped up another chapter And since I feel that not much happened in chapter 2, I decided to upload already. This will however not be a recurring thing. I won't update every day. Though I have to admit reviews can make me update faster. "wink, wink"_

I hope you all enjoy this chapter as well

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Harry woke up the next morning to someone shaking him quite vigorously. His eyes shot open and he looked straight into the face of one Ronald Weasley. Harry groaned and turned over in his bed.

"5 more minutes" Harry pleaded, resting his arm over his head to block out the sun.

"We're gonna miss breakfast, though, Harry!" Ron exclaimed loudly. Much too loudly for this early in the morning. Harry threw his pillow at Ron's head, a laugh escaping him while his friend dragged him forcibly out of the bed by tugging on his leg.

Harry guessed it was indeed time to get up. It seemed to be a gloriously beautiful day outside judging by the clear blue skies. It was the first actual day of classes and Harry was ready for them! How he had looked forward to it. He got ready as soon as he could. Finally, he got to wear his robes again! He raced Ron down to the common room where Hermione was already waiting. After a quick greeting, the three of them raced to the great hall, ready to start their days. Oh, the nostalgia Harry already felt. this was the first time in months he felt truly -

BANG

He crossed a corner a bit too quickly and ran straight into a tall, dark figure wearing a robe that seemed to move on the wind even if there was none. Harry almost fell backwards but the figure had sharp reflexes and grabbed Harry's arm. Surprised, Harry met Severus Snape's eyes once more. _Oh dear_.

"Careful, Mr Potter" Snape purred. "We wouldn't want you to be sent to the hospital wing so quickly, would we, now?"

"Er…" Harry sputtered, still not having regained his balance but just held into place by Snape's strong grip. The Potions Master suddenly pulled him back into a steady position and let go.

"Use your words, Mr Potter," Snape said smoothly. "We wouldn't want anyone to think you were a bumbling baboon, would we?" A small sneer was visible on Snape's otherwise blank face.

"I'm very sorry, Professor," Harry uttered finally. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

"Clearly," the dungeon bat replied. "Five points from Gryffindor for not paying attention. And now make your way to the great hall to eat breakfast. I won't have you snoozing in my class." And with that, the professor went on his way, a steady, fast-paced stride guiding him forward.

"That greasy git," Ron sputtered. "He already has it in for you, Harry. "Harry watched as Snape rounded another corner and disappeared out of sight.

"Yeah," he responded, a bit shaken. "I'd best lie low for a while before he slips me a Weedosoros potion without me knowing." Ron just raised an eyebrow in question but Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Oh, Harry, don't be so melodramatic," she replied, pushing both him and Ron further down the hall. "Professor Snape is a teacher, trusted by Dumbledore himself. He would never poison you!"

"I was kidding, Hermione," Harry responded, not fighting her shoving hands. "Don't take everything so seriously."

* * *

When they were seated and eating their breakfast, McGonagall came to the Gryffindor table, handing out class rosters. And sure enough, what could the first-class possibly be if it weren't potions. Double potions even, with the Slytherins. They would be stuck within the clammy, cold dungeon walls on a beautiful day such as this. Ron and even Hermione were groaning at the prospect but Harry honestly was pretty happy about it. The sooner he could begin gaining more practical experience, the better.

After breakfast, the trio got the books they needed from their dormitories and hurried to the dungeons. This was one class in which they did not want to be late. And luckily, they weren't. As a matter of fact, they were 10 minutes early so they chose a seat. Normally, they would sit in the back of the room attempting to stay out of Snape's way so he would not deduct too many points but Harry wouldn't have it. Hermione had no problem with Harry's new choice of seating but Ron put up a bit of a fight. One he did not win. So there they sat, in the front of the class when Snape came barging in loudly and swiftly, banging the doors hard and dimming the torches with a flick of his wand like he always did in the first class of the year, as if he needed to remind his students of what a dreadful person he was. The dimmed torches were not at all flaterring for Snape's palid face but did everything to enhance his nasty sneer.

A hint of surprise seemed to cross Snape's gaze when he saw the golden trio sitting up front, but it had soon vanished, replaced by a smirk now gracing the greasy git's face.

"It would seem we have a new set of students sitting at the front," Snape said with a silky smooth tone. "To whatever do I owe the pleasure?" he asked, not a hint of malice in his voice… yet. "Mrs Granger?"

"Harry is planning to appy himsellf more to Potions. He's worried about his OWL's next year, Professor." Hermione responded respectfully. "So he asked us to come sit at the front." Snape nodded, his smirk even wider. His eye fell on Ron for a moment, who was clearly not happy with his current predicament but his gaze quickly shifted back to Harry.

"Tell me, Mr Potter, how long does it take to brew Veritaserum?" he asked smoothly. A few Slytherins were already laughing amongst themselves, eager to see the coming show.

Before Hermione even managed to raise her hand completely though, Harry answered: "One lunar phase which is about 28 days, sir," without a hint of doubt in his voice. Snape's brow furrowed a bit.

"And what are its limitations?" Snape continued.

"Since some wizards and witches can resist its effects while others cannot, Veritaserum is unfair and unreliable to use at a trial and would be difficult to use as definite proof of guilt or innocence. Another problem is that the victim states what only they believe to be true, so the victim's sanity and perception of reality are also factors during interrogations. Therefore, while the drinker's answers are sincere, they are not necessarily true."

Harry droned this word for word out of his potions book. He must have read that passage 50 times at least. Ron was looking at him as if he had grown an extra head while Hermione almost seemed to be smitten. Snape, however, did not seem amused in the slightest, his plan obviously backfiring greatly.

"So, you have become quite interested in the Veritaserum, have you, Potter?" he sneered "Well, then how about this? What ingredients would you gather to brew Dr Ubbly's Oblivious Unction?"

"Er…." Harry stammered, rracking his brain. Had he heard of this potion before? He didn't think it was in his handbook. He noticed that Hermione hadn't raised her hand either. "I don't know, sir," He finally admitted.

"You don't?" Snape responded, acting surprised though he clearly was not. "Well, then I propose you study harder, Mr Potter, if you truly want to deserve an OWL next year."

Harry fell back in his chair, somewhat deflated. But he wouldn't let Snape's taunts get to him. That's just how he was. Snape started to roam the classroom, textbook in hand, the other one behind his back.

"Now, if you would all open your books to page 208 without babbling incessantly in the process."

Harry did as he was told. He recognized the recipe immediately. It was for the antidote to uncommon poisons.

"You will work in pairs, per usual. You have two hours to complete this potion. If you can't, you fail, if your graphorn horn isn't powdered enough, I will know, and you will fail. If your cauldron explodes, you fail. Should you be needing medical attention after botching the potion as some of you will no doubt accomplish -" he eyed Neville quite obviously. " - I request of you that you leave for the medical wing before we all have to suffer from any incessant whinging. Now begin!"

Harry was among the first to be gathering the ingredients. Most students had to check their recipe but Harry knew what he needed. Fire seeds; graphorn horn; Bylliwig stings and Chizpurfle carapaces among other things. He gathered the best looking items and returned to his station where Ron was waiting. Hermione was working with Lavender this time. The two boys went to work. Harry worked feverishly. So much so that at times, Ron begged him to slow down somewhat because he hardly had time to look at the recipe before Harry completed the next step. He was working with the utmost concentration and didn't even notice the times that Snape stopped by to scrutinize their work. Harry cut, ground, measured and stirred, occasionally stepping aside to allow Ron to perform a step but not without Harry's extreme attention. In the end, Harry and Ron managed to complete the potion with 40 minutes to spare. However…

"Mr Potter," Snape droned. Harry was staring at his cauldron, mildly perplexed. He had hardly noticed when Snape went to stand beside him. When Harry didn't respond, Snape furrowed his brow in mild annoyance and repeated "Mr Potter!" a tad more harshly this time. Ron elbowed Harry softy, keeping his slightly scared gaze transfixed on Snape. This took Harry out of his musings. He bravely met Snape's fierce glare, confusion in his eyes.

"Yes, professor?" He sounded somewhat defeated.

"What colour does your transcript describe your potion should be once completed?" Snape asked icily.

"Green, sir," replied Harry, not even checking his book. He lowered his gaze, slightly ashamed.

"And what, pray tell, is the colour of your potion, Mr Potter?" Snape's voice held no emotion. It was hard to read what he was thinking.

"Brown," This time, Harry's voice was barely but a whisper.

"Brown!" thundered Snape's deep voice through the dungeons. "I need not explain to you, that you will not receive a pas-"

"_Why_ is it brown, Professor?" interrupted Harry nervously. "What did I do wrong?"

"Ten points from Gryffindor for interrupting, Mr Potter," Snape said calmly. "But to answer your question, you did not grind the Graphorn horn enough. Had it been ground to the consistency of dust, your potion would now be a perfect green. Since it was barely ground into small lumps, your potion has acquired this unwanted colour and is therefore completely useless."

"Is there a way to fix it, professor?" Harry asked, truly interested.

"No," was Snape's curt reply. And with a swish of his wand, he vanished the potion. "Not off to a great start, Potter. I suggest you practice the basics some more."

Harry simply nodded in reply.

* * *

Snape was not entirely sure what had happened. He had wanted to destroy Potters obvious lie that he wanted do be better at Potions. It was bad enough that Snape had to teach the wretched child, but to have him sit right there in front of him was truly too nerve-racking for him. So he thought to push him back as he had done in that first year. By asking difficult questions. However, Potter had been able to answer them. That's when Snape asked an impossible question to which Harry could not have possibly known the answer.

But then came the brewing of the actual potion. It was interesting to watch. The Weasley boy did not get much of a chance to be of use. Potter didn't even bring his textbook to gather the ingredients. He knew them by heart. Snape had followed him with his gaze to make sure he wouldn't take some deadly combination out of pure thick-headedness but no. He took exactly the right ingredients. Soon it became obvious that he also knew every step there was to the potion. He gave Ron instructions and had focused himself greatly on his work. A vast improvement for sure. But Snape had noticed that Harry's graphorn was very poorly ground and would, therefore, destroy the entire potion. A pity, but it needed to happen to get Potter's head out of the clouds. He wasn't some potion prodigy and needed to realize that. Still, it was clear that the boy was, in fact, trying his best. Perhaps Snape had misjudged him. It was only the first lesson though. It could have either been a fluke or his current motivation could be short-lived. Snape suspected the latter would be true.

At the end of class, not many Gryffindors had managed a passing grade for their potion. Granger, of course, had done fine but the rest were still dunderheads. They all shrugged it off easily enough, except for Potter, who seemed somewhat defeated. Perhaps from now on, he would show some more diligence.

"By the end of the week, you will all have written a 4 feet long essay on this particular potion, what poisons it can cure and what mismanagement of ingredients can cause as so expertly revealed by Mr Harry Potter," he droned easily.

A smirk managed to make its way to Snape's face when he heard the groans of his students, noticing their free time fly away.

* * *

"Well, that was lousy as usual," Ron uttered. "You did one tiny thing wrong and this is what you get?" Harry just shrugged. There was nothing to be done about it now. But even Hermione seemed to agree about the unfairness of it all.

"You did everything else perfectly, Harry," It was obvious that she was trying to lift his spirits. "I was really impressed by the way you took charge and brewed the potion as if you knew the recipe by heart. Even I don't go that far." She grinned as she playfully slapped Harry on the back who had to suppress a wince. He was still so very sore.

"Let's just sit in the back again, next time, yeah?" Ron asked gingerly. "Otherwise, that git might flood us with ridiculous questions every time."

Harry sighed. "I suppose. I don't know what I was thinking," he said in defeat. He ran a hand through his messy hair, already tired even though the day had barely begun.

Be that as it may, the rest of the day flew by as if it were nothing. Defence against the dark arts did everything to lift Harry's spirits again when they learned about vampires and how to ward yourself against them. Less fun was the essay they were supposed to be writing about the subject afterwards but that was Hogwarts for you. Transfiguration, Charms and - unfortunately for Harry and Ron - Divination was also on their subject list of the day. It gave them a nice breather in which they could happily drink tea, though Harry hoped Trelawney wouldn't keep predicting his death again.

"What've you got Harry?" Ron asked.

Harry peered into his teacup "Er…. I feel like this could be a bird? Or maybe it's a bat… no, it's a bird."

"I've got a wand," Ron said decidedly. He began flipping through his textbook. "So I will encounter challenges I'm equipped to face." He sneered at his teacup. "Well, that's… good, I guess?" He flipped through his pages some more. "And you will be liberated from your troubles," Ron grinned. "Yeah…. What a load of hogwash."

But Harry didn't grin back. Liberated? Now that would be something. But no, Divination was really unreliable. Harry could not be getting his hopes up now.

"Next week, we shall begin divining byways of your dreams," Trelawney's voice always sounded as if she was in some sort of trance. And now too it almost sounded as if she were singing. "So I want you all to keep a dream journal to bring with you next week."

A general murmur filled the classroom but as far as homework went, that wasn't too bad. Well, except for Harry who felt no desire to put his nightmares on paper.

"Blimey, I can't even remember my dreams after I wake up," said Ron. "What about you, Harry?"

"Rarely," Harry answered absentmindedly.

Ron shrugged "We'll just make something up. She has no way of knowing whether or not we did."

Harry yawned and stretched his arms upwards. Hogwash or not, Divination always made for a very comfortable hour. The plush chairs and hot tea never failed to get him drowsy. And so, the day had flown by. It was time for dinner meaning Ron and Harry went to meet up with Hermione again. It seemed that she was already waiting for the two boys at the entrance of the grand hall. Feeling pangs of hunger already, Harry eagerly went inside, followed by his two comrades.

* * *

Not wasting any time, Harry decided to get started on his potions essay much to Ron's dismay and Hermione's pleasure.

"I'm going to the potions lab to practice this potion again," Harry told his friends. "Do you want to come?" But he already knew the likely answer. Sure enough, he earned himself a "Yes, please" from Hermione and a "Hell no" from Ron.

"Well, see you later then, Ron."

Harry and Hermione took their things and went back to the dungeons. At least the lab was open all day to accommodate students who wanted to practice or study more. Harry had never taken advantage of this offer before but would do so this year. On the way there, Hermione was talking excitedly about the essay, what she felt had to be on there and how 4 feet was not going to be enough. Harry, while he would definitely be doing his very best for the essay, was not as interested in it as he was in brewing actual working potions.

They arrived at the lab. The door was open and a couple of cauldrons were brewing on the fire already but not many at all. Snape was sitting at his desk, scribbling away on a piece of parchment, quill elegantly swishing up and down. He didn't even bother to look up at his new arrivals but just pointed towards a station where Harry and Hermione obediently sat down.

"Do you want to go get the ingredients or shall I?" Hermione asked. Harry looked at the desk where Snape was sitting and gulped slightly.

"Could you do it, Hermione?" he asked. She nodded and went up front to get what they needed. Once again, they started going over the necessary steps but Harry tried his best to grind the horn as well as he could. Every now and then he showed Hermione his result but she kept shaking her head, not deeming his contribution worthy of the brew yet. Frustrated, Harry kept grinding away clockwise as well as counterclockwise. He would mash a bit at the bigger pieces but he just couldn't manage. He felt his frustration bubble up inside him where it was slowly being transformed into anger. Why wouldn't this work? This was as simple a potion as they came. How had he managed to get into fourth year when he couldn't even prepare his ingredients properly? Snape was right, he was an absolute failure, only getting by because Hermione usually did all the hard work.

"Harry, calm down," Hermione whispered, trying not to break the silence that flooded the class. "You can do it. We have time." Her words were calming but Harry didn't absorb them. He felt tears starting to prick behind his eyes. Eventually, he dropped his pestle onto the desk and snarled at it in contempt. He started grabbing his hair harshly at his scalp to try and stave off his desperation. He already failed. His plan would never work and he would end up dead at the Dursleys.

"What seems to be the problem, Mr Potter?" a soft voice disturbed Harry's internal musings. He looked up to see Snape looming over his station, one eyebrow raised in question. Hermione seemed to be looking at him with a slightly worried expression.

"it's not working for me, Professor," Harry said a bit too loudly, frustration evident in his voice. He showed Snape his inadequate work. "I don't know why but I'm unable to grind my horn the way I should."

Snape glanced down into Harry's mortar bowl. "Show me your procedure," He said coldly. Harry, slightly taken aback, didn't move. "Now Mr Potter, we don't have all day." Great exasperation dripped from Snape's voice but Harry took the opportunity and started grinding again.

"Stop," Snape said after a few seconds. "try to work in an eliptical shape." He took Harry's bowl and pestle from him and with slender, practised fingers, started grinding the horn. It fell apart with ease. Snape gave the bowl back to Harry. "Retry."

Harry wasted no time and did as Snape had proposed. Amazingly, the horn fell to dust very easily and swiftly. It only took a few minutes before the ingredient was perfect for use.

"Thank you, Professor," Harry stammered. He received a curt nod in return before Snape went back to walking around, looking in on other students' work. His frustration dissipated greatly and he felt relief wash over him as he watched his professor snarl at some second-year Ravenclaws.

While the potion simmered as the recipe described, Harry got started on his essay. It was, in fact, a tall order to write 4 entire feet on the subject of this potion but Harry felt like he would be able to manage. He and Hermione were scribbling side by side as if it was a competition. Harry did his best to keep an eye on his potion in the meantime though, and once it was done, it had the green colour that was to be expected.

_Thank Merlin._

So he was _not_ a giant screw up after all. Harry and Hermione doused the fire and Harry took out his wand to vanish the potion when he suddenly felt a presence behind him. Lightly spooked he turned around.

"A vast improvement indeed, Mr Potter," came the unexpected praise from the Potions Master. "If you bottle a sample, you may use this potion to counteract the grade you received this morning. This is, however, a one-time courtesy, Mr Potter. You will not always be allowed to make up for your multitude of errors."

"Thank you, sir," Harry replied appreciatively and very surprised. He bottled the antidote and left it on Snape's desk.

"Now clean up your messes and go back to your dormitories if you please. I will not be babysitting any longer today. Whoever is not gone in the next 5 minutes will lose 20 points from their respective houses."

Every student in the room vanished their concoctions and cleaned up as fast they could. Almost tripping over themselves, everyone made their way out of the dungeons leaving a slightly amused professor Snape in their wake.

Harry wasn't at all perturbed by the man, though. He had made a lot of progress today.

Maybe there was hope after all.

* * *

_Hurray! I am personally quite happy with this chapter and I hope all of you are too._

_Please throw me a review telling me what you think, if something needs improving, or what you liked and what you hope will be in this story in the future. I welcome all feedback. _

_Thanks for reading!_

**_Revised on 04/02/2020_**


	4. Chapter 4

_Hi everyone! Thank you guys so much for your kind reviews. I took some of your advice to heart and made some internal changes. I really appreciate when you take the time to convey your thoughts and wishes to me. It's also great to see that many people have favourited my story so far. It gives me the motivation to move forward._

_Please enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 4**

The week flew by without mercy. Assignments were thrown at the students after practically every class. It was even worse than the previous year. In the meantime, Harry also had quidditch practice, of course, plus he didn't sleep very well. The nightmares he was experiencing were not exactly going away and they were starting to get to him. He was tired. The weekend would do him well.

As much as Harry tried dutifully to stay on top of his homework, he was really trying to put potions first. His essay was done by now and he deemed it pretty well thought out, even if he said so himself. He was definitely going to go back to the lab by the end of that fateful Friday evening. After all, he had many more potions to try out and no doubt was not going to see all of his desired recipes in class. That meant that after dinner he was about to leave his friends.

"I'm going back to the potion's lab, guys," He said. "Anyone want to join me?"

Hermione was already bagging the book she had been reading over dinner. "No thanks, Harry. My Potions essay is done. I'm going back to the common rooms to study up on charms."

"Bloody hell, Harry, it's Friday!" Ron stared at Harry with eyes the size of saucers. "Why in the world would you want to – yes I get it, you want an OWL in potions – but why be in the general vicinity of that greasy git by choice?"

"Because he is the only Potions Master on the grounds, Ron. It's not like I have many choices in the matter. If I want to learn, I have to learn from him." Harry was breathing a bit more heavily than usual, annoyance flaring up in his eyes. "I'm sick of explaining myself over the same subject. Could you just let it go already?"

Ron seemed too bewildered to respond to Harry and just sat there, his face turning the same colour as his hair. Harry swung his bookbag over his shoulder and proceeded towards the hallway, down into the dungeons for the second time that week.

His arrival appeared to be a tad too early. He had, after all, only just left the Great Hall and he could've sworn Snape had still been there. No matter, though. The lab was unlocked and ready for use so Harry walked in and sat down at a random station. He had brought _Potion Opuscule_ with him today to try something new. He grabbed his essay and put it on Snape's desk. He hadn't given it to him yet because he knew he was coming here today and had felt no need to make the trek to the dungeons early.

Next, he opened his book to where he had placed a bookmark and read the coiled letters with which the recipe was written. _Murtlap Essence_. It was a potion that - when brewed correctly - would soothe and heal cuts and abrasions. It also didn't appear to be too difficult. He didn't know this book or this recipe by heart so he took the book up front with him and rummaged in the students' cabinet.

A cough startled him so much that he hit his head hard against one of the shelves of the cabinet. "Owww," he stammered, eyes locking with the person who had disturbed him.

"Back so soon, Mr Potter?" Snape walked towards his desk with the haunting grace of a dementor, not stopping to inspect the boy on the floor. His eyes shot toward the essay haphazardly thrown on his desk.

"Better late than never," he said icily. "What were you doing in my cabinets, Potter? Trying to concoct Polyjuice potion, perhaps?" A nasty smile curled around his lips.

Harry clumsily scrambled to his feet trying to ignore the odd remark his Potions professor had just made.  
"I'm sorry, sir. I was early but the door was unlocked. I thought it was alright for me to gather the ingredients for my potion and then wait for you.

Snape's eyes narrowed dangerously as he watched Harry pick up the murtlap tentacles he had dropped.  
"And what exactly are we making today, Mr Potter?" his voice betrayed no emotion.

"Murtlap Essence, sir."

"That is _not_ part of your curriculum, Mr Potter," Snape sneered. "If I may ask, what sparks your interest?" He rested his head on the bend of his entwined fingers, elbows resting on his desk. His gaze seemed to darken even if his tone had remained reasonably pleasant up until now.

"I would like to experiment, sir," Harry lied, hoping he put up a convincing act. "I think the experience will help me in the future."

It was a long time before Snape next spoke. But eventually, he grabbed his quill and Harry's essay before gesturing with an open hand to the station Harry had already claimed.

"Go ahead and give it a try, Mr Potter. But any mess you make, you clean up yourself."

Harry grinned and nodded gratefully before rushing back to his seat with the gathered ingredients and his book. He carefully read the instructions and started with the preparations. He diced his tentacles, which was extremely difficult because they were so slimy but he managed. He ground his Dittany as fine as he could using the instructions Snape had given him that Monday. Harry felt eyes on him as he worked but tried not to let it bother him.

"Quiet night, Professor?" Harry asked in an attempt to start up a conversation.

"I suggest you keep your mind on your potion, Mr Potter," was Snape's snide reply. "You have never made it before - unless you did so in secret - so I request of you to remain vigilant."

Harry shut up immediately and turned his full attention back to his work. Why was he the only one here? Probably because it was Friday now that he thought about it. Who in their right mind would take up extra work at a time like this? Harry sighed when he thought of the fun he was giving up just to be able to make some helpful potions. But when he had these figured out, he would be able to make them every year with no problem. Yes, this was only temporary. He glanced at Snape who had gone back to reading his essay, his quill fitting loosely in his hand, but not writing anything down just yet. A good sign.

Harry cut the dried nettle as fine as he could. Next, he threw In his powdered Dittany and stirred the pot counter-clockwise, as the recipe instructed. Then came the spider legs. He threw those in and waited until the potion turned the colour of vomit yellow. Next were the tentacles. He was supposed to wait until the potion showed its first signs of bubbling so he stood at the ready with the tentacle bits on his cutting board. When he finally spotted the first bubble, he slid the tentacles into the potion in the same manner a chef would slide cut onions into a pan.

Well, that was odd. The pot began sizzling and spitting. It was not supposed to do that. Harry took a step backwards when a particularly large blob spat out of the cauldron and landed on Harry's left forearm which he had raised in protection. The burning sensation of hot oil seared his skin painfully. In seconds, Snape was beside him and pushed him backwards. Harry looked up to see the Potions master wave his wand in powerful, smooth arrangements. The potion stopped bubbling and the next moment, Snape had vanished what was left of Harry's failed experiment.

"You foolish child!" Snape yelled, turning back to look at the cowering boy on the ground. Harry was cradling his arm, in too much pain to be intimidated by the head snake right now. When Snape saw Harry was hurt, he stopped the tirade he was about to spout and took urgent strides towards his personal cabinet.

Harry tried to get to his feet, desperate to try and get help, blinded by pain when Snape pushed him down again. "Show me your arm," he said urgently. Harry bit back the tears as he extended his arm. Snape took out a burn healing paste and applied it gently to Harry's injured limb. The pain dissipated immediately to a dull ache. Harry, however, could not stop trembling. He was breathing rapidly and feeling somewhat lightheaded. Somehow, the loud, unexpected protests of the cauldron combined with the searing pain he had felt got to him. His mind started whirring and claiming all of his focus. Snape was probably so mad at him right now. He would not be allowed to come back. Harry dared to meet Snape's gaze and regretted it immediately. His eyes were dark and icy. Harry saw his lips moving but couldn't register a word he said. He seemed to hear a distant ringing in his ears. His gaze fell to the ground again.

_When did it become so difficult to breathe?_

His heart was pounding heavily in his chest. Harry clawed at it but only managed to grab his shirt.

_He couldn't breathe._

Snape was going to ban him from Potions class altogether. No, he might even get expelled.

_Just breathe!_

Harry's vision began to swim, and his world suddenly tilted heavily to the right.

"BREATHE, POTTER!" A voice suddenly commanded. He tried again but couldn't. His chest hurt.

_How long had he been on the ground? There was someone beside him. It had to be Snape._

Harry's trembling hand tried to grab Snape's robe, but couldn't.

_How long had it been since he had breathed? He was going to die and no one would care._

Suddenly, a hand forcefully tugged at his hair. Still gasping for air, Harry was mildly aware of a liquid being poured into his mouth. Harry swallowed completely involuntarily when Snape massaged his throat and the grip on his hair was released.

Harry felt himself relax, despite facing certain death when finally he managed to inhale. Right, _that_ was how breathing worked. He exhaled again and his vision slowly came back to him. The next thing he became aware of was the sound of Snape muttering something.

"Slow breaths, Potter. In – and out. In – and out again."

To his horror, the next thing Harry noticed was that he was clutching at Snape's robes. He held them so tight, his knuckles had turned white. Quickly, he released the robes and scrambled into a sitting position.

"Not too fast, Mr Potter," Snape urged Harry, a hint of worry in his voice. "Just try to breathe for now." Harry felt a bit ashamed, not sure what happened for him to wind up on the floor, practically in Snape's lap but he also felt a lot more relaxed than he had been in a long time so he just went with it and did as Snape instructed. His body shuddered slightly when he took a few extra deep breaths. After a couple of minutes, Harry felt fine again.

"I'm okay now, Professor," Harry said softly. Snape eyed him searchingly before he nodded. He got up first before he extended a hand to his Gryffindor pupil. Harry took it gratefully and got up clumsily.

"What happened?" Harry muttered to himself.

"You were having a panic attack, Mr Potter," Snape replied. "A surprising development indeed. You would think that one who has faced off against the Dark Lord, would not be spooked by a cauldron that's acting up a bit."

Harry dared not reply out of fear that his voice would shake, nor did he look up to meet his professors gaze because he just knew there would be a pitiful look in his eyes right now. He did, however, feel Snape's gaze linger on his slightly wobbly form for much longer than he felt comfortable with.

"To the hospital wing, with you, Potter," Snape commanded. Harry nodded and started walking, surprised that his professor was right behind him.

"I can make it there on my own, sir."

"Be that as it may, Mr Potter, I will not risk you collapsing in the hallways within the radius of my office. I will not be held responsible for your recklessness."

Snape locked the door to the lab behind him with a flick of his wand. "Now if you would please start moving before I am forced to carry you."

Harry gulped and did as he was told. They moved together in complete and highly uncomfortable silence. After what seemed like hours, the unlikely pair finally reached the hospital wing. Snape pointed Harry unceremoniously towards an empty bed and went over to meet Madame Pomfrey. Harry saw them both talking, knowing exactly what they were discussing. He felt like he was close to another panic attack. Were they going to find out his secret? Would he from now on be known as The Boy Who Gets Beat Up By Muggles?

No, he was sure that Madame Pomfrey was not going to have to see more than his arm which only showed the nasty burn he had suffered before. He had forgotten about the pain but it was coming back. He watched as Snape shot him one last look before exiting the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey approached Harry and began to make a fuss immediately. She took care of his arm properly and bandaged it heavily for him. But naturally, his arm was not where her concern would stop today.

"How have you been sleeping, dear?" she asked, clearly concerned.

Harry frowned as he considered the sudden question. He didn't wan't to get into his nightmares with the school nurse but he supposed it couldn't hurt to let on that he was't sleeping all that well. "Not that great Madame Pomfrey," he replied honestly.

"Are you under any stress?" Pomfrey urged.

"Not particularly, no. The year has just begun. How could I?'

The medi-witch eyed him suspiciously. "Perhaps your panic attack was a one-time occurrence, caused by the shock of the problem with your cauldron combined with your lack of sleep," She guessed. "I will give you a sleeping draught. But Mr Potter. If this occurs again, do come back."

"Yes, absolutely Madame," Harry replied happily. He would get out of this easily. She handed him the potion and sent him on his way.

He hurried out of the room, ready to run back to his dormitories when he noticed Snape leaning against the wall. He had a stoic expression on his face and watched as Harry came up to him again.

"I will now escort you to your dormitories, Mr Potter," he announced unnecesarily. He pushed himself off the wall and started walking. Harry dared not disobey and followed obediently.

"I'm very sorry, Professor," Harry said after a while, half jogging to try and keep up with Snape.

"And why is that, Mr Potter?" Snape asked, ice in his voice.

"For messing up the potion – though I'm not sure what went wrong – and for my… inappropriate reaction afterwards," Harry all but whispered those last words.

"When you diced your tentacles, you neglected to remove the suction cups," Snape replied calmly, still taking large strides forward. "The poison in those cups reacts very poorly with dittany and causes the response you provoked."

"As for your '_reaction'_ as you so eloquently put, Mr Potter, do not apologize. You can hardly be expected to have complete control of your emotions. Most adults don't even have that ability."

Snape seemed to be taking a deep breath. "It is, however, quite unusual for any student to suffer from a panic attack, even whilst in my presence."

Snape stopped very suddenly, causing Harry to almost bump into him.

"Do you experience panic attacks often Mr Potter?"

"This was the first time ever, sir," Harry answered honestly. "Really!" he added when he saw Snape's incredulous look. After a while, Snape seemed to believe Harry's answer and he resumed his powerful march towards the Gryffindor tower.

And with that, the conversation was over, and silence engulfed the pair once more, only to be broken when they reached their destination.

"Goodnight, Professor," Harry voiced. Snape simply turned on his heel, and departed back to the dungeons, his robes swishing elegantly behind him.

Harry climbed into his bed almost immediately. He felt positively exhausted after his extracurricular experiments of the day. He sighed deeply. He had failed once again. But he had been sure his book specified nothing about removing the suction cups. He must have read and reread the recipe 10 times before getting started. He wanted to grab his book to make sure when he realized he had left it in the potions lab. He groaned inwardly. All his stuff was still there! Oh well. He would just pick it up the next day. He downed the sleeping draught he had received from Pomfrey and fell asleep almost instantly. But it did nothing to stop the nightmares from invading his mind once more.

* * *

Harry didn't really have much of an appetite at breakfast that morning. For once, Snape hadn't been a total git, and still, Harry had failed him. The light throbbing of his arm was a stark reminder of that.

"How did yesterday go, Harry?" Hermione enquired. She gasped before she heard his reply. "Harry, your arm! What happened?"

"Misbehaving cauldron," Harry joked, grinning because he felt like it was required of him at the time. Hermione pursed her lips disapprovingly but pressed the matter no further.

Harry was just about to try and take a bite of a bit of toast when it was time for the mail. Per usual, dozens of owls flew overhead, delivering their letters and parcels into eagerly awaiting hands. Since Harry expected no parcel, he was thoroughly shocked when a book-shaped package wrapped in brown paper landed squarely on his plate. They honestly had to rethink this owl business. He opened it only to find his own copy of Potion Opuscule. Confused, he glanced towards where Snape was sitting but the man was just sitting there looking extremely bored while an enthusiastic professor Dumbledore brandished a blueberry muffin while telling a no doubt riveting tale of past exploits.

Harry thumbed through his book and got to the page that contained the recipe for the Murtlap essence to confirm his suspicions. He was indeed correct that no mention of the accurate way to cut up the tentacles was made. But he also noticed that next to the step 'Dice the murtlap tentacles' a note was added in neat, wavy handwriting.

'_Remember to remove the suction cups.'_

* * *

_I had so much fun writing this! It was done for a while but I couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. So I thought about it and in the shower, it came to me. Originally this chapter ended when Snape had returned Harry to the tower, but I'm glad about the addition I made._

_Thank you for staying with me until now. Please Review!_

**_Revised last on 04/02/2020_**


	5. Chapter 5

_Hi guys. Thank you once again for your kind reviews. They make me happy. The helpful criticism also really helps me make this story better so thanks for that as well._

_This chapter will have less Snape than I personally would want, but the content is important. Forgive me!_

* * *

**Chapter 5**

Harry was happy to forget about potions for the weekend. For the first time that year, Harry went to quidditch practice again. That feeling of soaring on his broomstick must be one of the things he missed the most every time he had to return to his dull muggle life. His lithe body swished effortlessly between bludgers, goalposts and other quidditch players. His Firebolt was a dream to fly on, really. It was so fast. Harry felt as if he was nothing but a red streak to everyone else. Catching the snitch was easy. Sure, it was only a practice match, and there was no hostile seeker trying to catch the snitch like he was, but he was still impressed with himself when he managed to catch the golden ball at least 15 times. This was one of the things he truly lived for.

But quidditch practice couldn't last forever. Even Wood eventually had enough and called a halt to the highlight of Harry's week. So Harry made it back to the common room where Ron and Hermione seemed to be having an argument yet _again_.

"You're never upset with _me_ for focusing on homework, Ron."

"Yeah but, that's just what you've been doing since we got to know you. It's not _like_ him, Hermione."

"He's just thinking of his future. Something _you_ should start doing as well."

Harry felt very uncomfortable with the two of them obviously talking about him. He was happy that Hermione was on his side in this, but he hadn't wanted to upset Ron. Whatever the outcome of this potions experiment, it was not worth risking his friendships over. Those were too valuable for him.

"_Please_, Hermione, I hardly think – Oh Harry." Ron looked up from the game of chess he had been playing with Hermione. He was playing with black and judging by the meagre amount of white pieces left on the board, he was almost victorious.

"Hi, Harry" Hermione chimed in. "We were starting to miss you."

Harry hmphed before moving to sit in an unoccupied chair by the fireplace his best friends were already sitting next to. He needed to try and be understanding. He needed to not blow up this time.

"Ron, I'm sorry," he started. Ron just looked at him, blinking in confusion.

"What for?" He moved his queen 5 spaces towards Hermione's bishop.

"I haven't been very available, lately. I know that. Even if it's only been a week, I understand that you would feel left out. I just want you to understand that it's not because of anything you did. I really just want to get better at potions. I'm not lying about that."

Ron looked up at him as if he was considering what to say next. Hermione moved her king back protectively, and almost reflexively, Ron took Hermione's bishop.

"You're working hard, mate and that's great!" Ron replied. "I just hope you're not replacing your friends with Snape"

Harry made a disgusted face at that reply. "Of course not! He's still a creepy dungeon lurker. He's just a teacher as well and… I need to do well for him if I want that O.W.L." Harry hated lying to his friends. While it was not untrue that he wanted to become an Auror, it was not his main reason to want to get better at potions. But how could he tell his friends that he was just trying to stay alive during the summer, without getting expelled in the process?

"You know, Harry, _we_ could also practice potions together," Hermione offered. "Maybe if it's the three of us, we wouldn't even need Professor Snape."

Ron nodded enthusiastically. "Sure! I can't say that I'm a big fan of potions, but if we work something up together, we can at least have fun trying. And at least all three of us could get better that way. Even though you're already amazing, Hermione," Ron added when he saw her cold glare out of the corner of his eyes.

"Also, checkmate."

* * *

The golden trio was sitting in the dungeons, in potions class. Snape was handing out everyone's essays while Hermione was eyeing him nervously, awaiting her own grade.

"Quite unsatisfactory Mr Longbottom," Snape said coldly as he handed Neville his essay back. "Do try to at least open your textbook next time you do your homework." Neville's cheeks went red with embarrassment as Snape moved on.

"A poor job indeed, Mr Weasley," he droned on as he handed Ron his essay. Red words were scribbled all over the parchment and a big red P adorned the top. "Why do you even attend these classes if you simply refuse to learn from them?"

He handed Harry and Hermione's paper back to them without a word and moved on to the next station of terrorized Gryffindor students. Hermione pursed her lips together in mild annoyance when she saw her mark. EE was written at the top of her parchment. A couple of words in her essay had been scribbled out in red, and commentary was written next to them. Hermione read every word, then folded the parchment and put it in her bag. Next, she glanced at Harry's essay.

"What did you get, Harry?" she asked, sounding just a tad too curious.

But Harry was stunned. At the very top of his essay gleamed a big red O. How had he even done that?

"What?!" Hermione exclaimed. "That's totally unfair!"

"Keep your voice down, Miss Granger," Snape reprimanded from the back of the class. "There is no need to torment others with your childish screeching just because you have fallen off your throne."

This shut Hermione up for the entirety of the class. While she and Harry were creating a befuddlement draught, she hardly spoke a word and didn't give Harry instructions as she usually would have done, as if she was trying to see how good he really was. This particular potion was a breeze however and Harry flew through the steps in no time at all. He made sure to read every step carefully to avoid any disasters while Hermione moped. She would get over it soon enough. But Harry knew that he had worked very hard on that essay and felt that he had deserved his grade.

Within no time, the draught was complete. It looked and smelled exactly the way it should.

"We're done, Hermione," Harry told his friend, hoping she would now stop sulking. "Do you want to check the result?" Hermione glanced into their cauldron and sighed.

"I couldn't have done it any better, Harry," she admitted, managing a small smile.

When Snape came around to check Harry and Hermione's finished result he didn't say a word. He just wrote something down on a clipboard he was holding and moved on. A very good sign indeed. At the end of class, everyone put a labelled bottle of their brew on Snape's desk and left the dungeons as fast as they could.

"I'm sorry Harry," Hermione said as soon as they stepped outside. "I know how hard you worked on your essay. You really _do_ deserve your grade." Harry smiled.

"It's ok, Hermione. It was probably a fluke, really. In general, you're still the smartest witch in this entire school," Harry said trying to mend her wounded pride. Hermione blushed and Harry knew he had managed to avoid another argument.

"Blimey Harry, you really _are _getting better at this," Ron chimed in. "Snape still hates me though." He waved his essay in front of him which Hermione then grabbed.

"Oh Ron, honestly. I'll help you with your next one. I would never even dream of turning in an essay like this!" Now it was Ron's time to pout. Harry just felt really proud.

* * *

Hermione had found a potions recipe she had wanted to try. Since she already knew most of the basic recipes that were to be found in their textbook, she felt like she wanted more of a challenge so she too could learn something. Harry agreed with her but there was one problem. The recipe for the potion she wanted to create was in a book in the forbidden section in the library. _Most Potente Potions. _

"Can't you ask Snape, Harry?" Hermione asked. "I'm sure he'll find it believable that you want to learn something that's in there. Harry sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. There was indeed a recipe in there that he wanted to get but he felt as if he had not yet gained enough of Snape's trust to be allowed to borrow the book in question.

"I don't think he'll let me," Harry replied. "But I'll do you one better! I'll just use my invisibility cloak and copy the recipe you have in mind."

"Okay, Harry, just don't get caught," Hermione warned warily. "Now, the recipe I would like to try is one for curing the black plague."

"Hermione, isn't that terribly useless?" Ron asked. "Who are we gonna cure with a potion like that?"

"That's not the point," The witch replied. "The potion is a difficult one, and I feel that we're going to learn a lot by making it. Also, it's a cure, so even if we botch it, nothing can go wrong." She turned back to Harry. "It's called the Bubonic draught."

* * *

That same night, Harry went to the library to find the recipe. Oh, the things he did to keep his friendship alive. Hermione obviously wanted to prove to Harry that she was still superior and what better way to prove that than with a recipe Harry had never once seen in his life. To make matters worse, they could obviously not brew this thing in front of Snape because it was forbidden for students to even know so they would have to find a secure location for their brewing purposes. The bathroom that had been the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was no longer an option seeing how it was kind of an attraction to first years nowadays.

Harry forcibly shook the problems for future Harry out of his head and focused on the present. He had made it to the library without encountering a single person or cat. So far he had been lucky. He skulked towards the forbidden section and scanned the rows and rows of books. It didn't take long for him to find his prize. He lifted _Most Potente Potions _from the bookcase and sat down at a table nearby, doing his best to not make any sound with his chair when he pulled it out from under the table.

Burying both himself, the book and his parchment and quill under the cloak, he whispered 'Lumos' and started looking for the Bubonic draught. It took a while for him to find it because it was at the end of the book, accompanied by horrid drawings of people succumbing to the black death. He scanned the page, honestly not getting half of what was written there, but he was sure that Hermione would be able to translate.

Working as meticulously as he could, he copied everything, word for word onto his parchment. He had realized by now how important it was to follow these recipes exactly. Any slip-up and who knows what happens. That's why he did his best to not leave out a thing. When he was done he reread and compared both texts several times before he was sure that he got everything. Content, he rolled up the parchment, put the book back exactly where he had found it, and inaudibly left the library again, noxing his wand.

* * *

"Did you get it?" Hermione whispered excitedly when Harry removed his cloak again. Harry showed her the parchment and her eyes lit up as if she had just gotten her most wanted Christmas present. And for all he knew, that was exactly what happened. Ron scanned the recipe from behind Hermione's shoulder while she was reading it and groaned.

"I don't understand a word of it!" he said with annoyance in his voice.

"Much of it is written in old English," Hermione explained. "Don't worry, I'll translate it first, and then we'll get to work. I have _just_ the book for it." She looked over the ingredients again.

"Harry, do you think you could gather these for us? They should all be available for students," She asked.

"I'm really trying to not get on Snape's bad side or to at least get off of it," Harry said uneasily but Ron threw him a nasty look. "But sure! I'll try to get them one at a time." Harry was not comfortable with Ron manipulating him like that be it on purpose or not, but it caused him even more stress than he already had. He really didn't want to do this, but he would try. He checked the list of the ingredients, and in his head went over what potions they all belonged in that Harry would be allowed to make. If he wanted to be as efficient as possible, he would need to make 4 or 5 potions before he could gather all the correct ingredients.

"Well, good luck with that Harry," Ron yawned as he turned to go to bed. "I can't wait to begin."

_Yeah because you don't have to do anything,_ Harry thought grumpily, but he said nothing.

"Are you sure you're okay with this, Harry?" Hermione said, noticing Harry's glum look.

Harry waited until Ron was out of earshot to reply. "Not really, Hermione. But I don't have much of a choice, do I?" He gestured towards the stairs Ron had just gone up on.

"I'll talk to him," Hermione said. "You know how he is. But you also know he always comes around." She whispered the next part. "Sometimes he's just a bit of a man child." Harry grinned.

"Thanks, Hermione," came his genuine response. "And goodnight."

"Goodnight!"

* * *

It took Harry several weeks of brewing potions that he hadn't even been interested in making to be able to sneak ingredients without suspicion. He still tried to learn from these potions, however useless they were to him personally, because you never knew what valuable hints he could get that would be important in the future. He noticed that fewer and fewer students kept coming into the potions lab after classes as if their resolutions had all but vanished. Sometimes, he was the only one still working, even when it wasn't Friday. By the end of week three, if there were any other students to be found at all, they were Slytherins.

In the beginning, they had tried to mess with Harry and his work when they thought Snape wasn't watching. But the ever-vigilant man seemed to have eyes in the back of his head. And in stark contrast with his actual classes, he didn't hesitate to speak up harshly to his Slytherins when they tried to fool around. He even took points on occasions.

"Potions can be delicate and volatile. The ingredients can be rare and precious. If you come here to fool around and put yourself and your fellow students in danger, I will not have you in my lab any longer." Is what he would say.

After this, the Slytherins only bothered Harry and his fellow Gryffindors during official classes while leaving him entirely alone after hours. Secretly, Harry was grateful to Snape for this.

He had also noticed that Snape came to check on him less and less. After every successful potion he managed to brew, Harry seemed to instil more trust in Snape which made him feel even more guilty for secretly swiping his ingredients for the forbidden potion his friends insisted on brewing.

While concocting the last potion he needed to make to attain his last ingredient, namely ground Hyena fangs, he noticed he was once again alone with Snape. It was no longer an uncomfortable silence that lingered between the two of them but a respectful one in which both parties knew the other to be hard at work. Today, however, Snape was staring at Harry. He could feel his dark eyes linger on him but didn't dare to look up until he had finished cutting up his rainbow trout, throwing it into the cauldron before he would miss the timeframe in which his brew would become explosive. When he saw the bits of trout sizzle steadily in the, for now, green concoction, he was happy to leave it alone for half an hour or so and looked up to meet the gaze Harry knew had been on him for the last 10 minutes.

Snape didn't even look away when Harry finally looked up. He wasn't one to pretend just to avoid an uncomfortable situation. His hands were folded under his chin and he had one eyebrow raised. Harry wasn't sure what to say.

"Did I do something wrong, professor?" he asked, starting to doubt himself again.

"Not a thing, Mr Potter," Snape replied. "In fact, you seem to know exactly what you're doing." Harry felt himself blush slightly.

"Thank you, Professor," He murmured.

"Which is why I can't help myself from wondering. Why are you not brewing potions that are more of a challenge?"

Harry blinked in surprise. Had Snape really just said that? "I don't think I'm ready, sir."

"Nonsense, Potter," Snape said a tad harshly, dropping a bit of formality. "You will never get better if you continue brewing the safe and simple potions. I'm sure even you can see that." Snape seemed to regard Harry carefully after his advice. Harry glanced awkwardly into his cauldron, knowing his concoction wouldn't need his actions for at least another 20 minutes.

"Or are you planning to continue wasting my time while you make potions many first and second years already know?"

A bit annoyed, Harry looked up at Snape again, meeting his gaze defiantly.

"Fine, professor. I just wasn't sure if you would let me."

Snape quirked an inquisitive eyebrow.

"What do you have in mind, Mr Potter?" Curiosity tainted Snape's otherwise emotionless voice.

"For starters, I would like to try a wound cleaning potion, Professor," Harry admitted.

"That's normally a lesson for your 6th year, Mr Potter," Snape said smoothly.

"You just told me to try some harder recipes," Harry challenged.

"Don't forget your place, Potter," Snape said calmly, his eyes betraying no malice.

"I think it would be a good experience, _sir,_" Harry added carefully.

Once again, Snape regarded Potter as if he was seeing him for the first time, eyes searching, perhaps for a sign of mischief or dishonesty. When he found none, Snape relinquished Harry's gaze and folded his hands behind his back.

"You shall not attempt this potion without me watching you, Mr Potter," Snape eyed Harry as if daring him to object but Harry did not speak. "If I should fall ill, or for any other reason a different professor is substituting me here, you are not to attempt the recipe."

"Of course, Professor," Harry replied. He didn't recall Snape ever having been absent but whatever he said.

"You no doubt already know that you will find the recipe in _Advanced potion-making_. Do you need me to procure this book for you?"

"No professor, I already have it."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Very well. Bring it with you the next time you come here and I will make sure you do not blow up half the school in your attempt to overshadow Miss Granger." Harry had almost retorted something at the weird accusation but was shocked to find a somewhat playful grin on Snape's face. Had he just made a joke?

"Y-Yes, thank you, Professor," he stammered before turning back to his potion. He had to start stirring until the potion turned red signalling it was finished.

* * *

"I have everything," Harry whispered to his friends, gesturing to his trunk.

"Oh Harry, well done!" Hermione was practically squealing in delight.

"Finally!" Ron added. "I mean, it must have been hard for you, Harry," He stammered in addition. "Thanks for doing this, mate." Harry did get the idea that Hermione had scolded Ron because he had been a lot nicer over the previous weeks, not blaming Harry for spending time in the lab – though that could be because Harry needed to do that anyway for the ingredients – plus Ron had spent a lot more time with Harry when he had free time.

"It's going to be a long process," Hermione said. "This potion takes a month to brew. Where are we going to do it?"

The three were contemplating the best possible places when Ron came up with an idea.

"How about we do it in the basement?" he proposed. "No one ever goes down there, unless they are house-elves. And if they see us, we can just tell them to be quiet and they will have to unless a professor or the headmaster specifically tells them to reveal our secret. And why would they do that?"

Hermione and Harry listened to Ron's explanation, not finding a flaw in it.

"That's actually a good idea, Ron," Hermione praised. "What do you think, Harry?"

Harry wasn't sure. The idea didn't exactly sound foolproof but he couldn't think of a better alternative. "You're sure you know how to make this potion without problems?" he asked.

"I am," Hermione replied, confidence emanating from her very being.

"Okay then, let's do it," Harry said, his own confidence restored. "When do we begin?"

"How about tonight?" Ron proposed.

All three of them were excited to get started, even Harry who knew now that he could do it. After all, Snape obviously thought he had become adept at making potions. And if the dungeon bat thought so, there could be no doubt. This would be a piece of cake.

* * *

_And there you have it, folks. Please do leave a review if you can. They make me happy. And a happy author writes faster! I'm also interested in what you guys would like to see in a fic like this or even where you suspect this is going. I've got most of it worked out but there's always room for minor changes or additions ;)_

**_Revised on 10/02/2020_**


	6. Chapter 6

_Hi everyone! I am back with yet another update. I am really having a lot of fun writing this story, doing my best not to rush ahead. I hope you can all enjoy this chapter as well._

_Thanks for all your reviews. Some of you have helped me correct errors – spelling or otherwise – which I really appreciate. You are helping me make this story better._

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Harry, Ron and Hermione had snuck into the basement as quietly as they possibly could. They didn't seem to have alerted anyone or anything to their presence. They found an enclave that seemed to be somewhat hidden away. Because of the late hour, it would seem no one was around. Even house-elves needed their sleep, Harry supposed.

Hermione had brought one of her portable, non-extinguishable fires with her to place underneath the cauldron. As an added bonus, the fire was unable to set anything ablaze. It only served as a heat source. Hermione was getting really good at those. Harry was just glad he had bought that second cauldron back in Diagon Alley. It really came in handy now. The plan was to cover the cauldron with Harry's invisibility cloak once they had to leave again. Sure, it would make it harder for the trio to make it back to their common room without getting caught, but they still had the Marauders Map.

Harry unpacked his ingredients carefully while Hermione got the potion started. She handed both boys a piece of parchment on which she had written the 'translated' recipe in tidy lettering. Harry reread the recipe and was able to understand most of it this time. Ron, however, looked as if his eyes were about to bulge out of his head.

"Don't worry, Ron," Hermione reassured, noticing her friend's discomfort. "We're in this together." Ron nodded apprehensively but Harry was starting to become very eager and was ready to go.

* * *

Over the course of the next few weeks, the dapper trio did their best to meet up back in the basement of the castle, whenever the potion in making required it of them. Harry had to agree that sneaking around with his best friends, brewing potions they shouldn't be brewing and sometimes narrowly escaping capture was exhilarating! One time he had noticed just in time that McGonagall was right around the corner and gestured the two of them to quickly get into a nearby closet. The three of them barely managed to fit in there and even though the suspense was thick while McGonagall was nearby, they couldn't help but smile broadly once the coast was clear. Those close calls were really invigorating. Harry felt how their friendship that had seemed somewhat fragile lately, became so much stronger once again.

Harry didn't want to stop brewing potions with Snape, though. When he had first tried out the Wound Cleaning Potion it wasn't exactly what you would call perfect. But after giving it a try several more times, the potion was what Snape considered to be functional.

"How long does this potion stay viable, Professor?" Harry had asked.

"About 5 months, Potter," Snape had replied. "Normally the range lies between 6 to 9 months but your potion is unfortunately still inadequate. You are stirring too strongly and not close enough to the edge of your cauldron. Your potion will be less potent because of this as well. But it will do."

Harry had filled several vials with the potion before vanishing the rest. Snape had raised a questioning eyebrow. "For quidditch injuries," Harry had lied. Snape had thrown him a slightly venomous glare.

"Don't _lie_ to me, Potter." His tone had been icy and he put emphasis on every word. "I don't require you to tell me what you wish to accomplish with this mediocre potion as it can do no harm. But don't lie." Sometimes, Harry thought Snape could read minds. He shuddered at the thought.

Harry had simply apologized. "I'm sorry, Professor. I'd rather not say." For which he received a curt nod.

If Harry was being completely honest, though, his busy life was starting to get to him. Between classes, quidditch practice, potions in the lab and the potion in the basement Harry could hardly find the time to complete his regular assignments. When they got homework in regards to potions, Harry would make sure it was done first and adequately. Though he hadn't been able to get as high a score as on his first essay of the year, Harry still maintained a high grade and hadn't faltered below an EE yet. His other classes were a different story entirely though. He was writing his essays and doing his work for sure, but he didn't put as much effort into it as he should and could have. He was simply exhausted and there was nothing he could do about it. Suffering from the occasional nightmare didn't help him either.

For Trelawney's dream journal he had seen no other choice but to make up some dreams, including winning a quidditch match, flying in a car, losing points for Gryffindor and he even threw in a dream in which his teeth were falling out just to be able to add one of the classics. Trelawney had given him a strange look when he had shown her his dream diary but she moved on quickly and actually gave him decent points. They were going to stick with the dreams for the remainder of the year, though. Bummer.

During the last week the Bubonic draught was brewing, Snape had suddenly requested to see Harry in his office.

"Oh, Harry, do you think he knows?" Hermione asked in a complete panic. "Did he ever mention that he noticed some ingredients were missing?"

"I don't think so, Hermione," Harry said thoughtfully. "If he did, wouldn't he have asked all three of us to come? Better yet, wouldn't he have gotten rid of the potion by now?"

"I suppose you're right," Hermione agreed. "Maybe he just wants to give you some pointers?"

Harry nodded wearily. He hoped that was all it was. With a heavy heart, he reached Snape's office door and knocked three times.

"Enter," came the familiar, cold voice of the Potions master.

Harry opened the door hesitantly and didn't move from the doorway, as if he needed to be ready to flee at any moment. Why did he feel that way?

Snape looked up from the tests he was grading and raised an eyebrow. "I said 'enter', Potter," he sneered. "And sit down." Harry moved quickly to obey Snape's command. He sat in the single chair that was waiting in front of Snape's desk, folded his hands in his lap and met Snape's gaze inquisitively. Snape seemed to be studying Harry for a moment, his gaze lingering on his eyes for a few seconds, without actually capturing his gaze.

"Mr Potter, I think you should refrain from undertaking any additional work in regards to potions at the moment."

It took Harry a few seconds to process what Snape had said but once he did, he jumped up so quickly that his chair fell over.

"But why?" he asked loudly. "I didn't do anything wrong! You can't just – "

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for your outburst," Snape interrupted viciously. "I can do whatever I want, Potter. As a matter of fact, this is a request from your own head of house."

"McGonagall?" Harry asked deflated, sitting back down in his chair. "But why?"

"_Professor_ McGonagall, Potter," Snape corrected sharply. "And yes. She did. Apparently, your grades are… Less than satisfactory." Harry crossed his arms and sighed exasperatedly.

"Don't behave like a child, Potter," Snape scolded. "Anyone can see just by looking at you that you have bitten off way more than you can chew."

"I'm fine!" Harry retorted.

"Indeed?" Snape asked, ice in his voice. "In any case you are not welcome back until your grades are back up to standard."

"But Professor – "

"Don't make me repeat myself, Potter. This is not my choice but I do agree with your head of house. One more argument out of your mouth, and I will be taking more points. You are to come to the dungeons for class only and nothing else. Do I make myself clear?"

Harry was absolutely furious. He pursed his lips together out of fear that he might say something highly inappropriate. He just nodded sharply at Snape, shot him a nasty glare and stomped out of the office, slamming the door behind him.

Snape _had_ to be lying to him. The coward couldn't even be honest and just tell Harry that he didn't want him there anymore. Harry was probably just in the way of Snape's spare time. After all, he was the only one still working in the labs after classes. He hadn't seen another student in weeks. With Harry gone, Snape could just go about his business. Fast-paced with rage, Harry narrowly turned another corner to wind up in front of McGonagall's office. He _was_ going to expose that rotten snake. Not entirely able to contain his anger, he knocked furiously on the door.

"Enter!" Answered a stern voice loudly. Harry entered the office, still seething and closed the door a tad more loudly than he had intended. McGonagall met Harry's furious gaze with a stern one of her own.

"Mr Potter, I do not appreciate students barging into my office like this, slamming doors and stomping their feet." McGonagall chided sternly, looking at Harry from behind her glasses.

Harry opened his mouth but she gave him no chance to speak. "Sit down, Mr Potter and calm down before you say anything you'll regret."

Harry did as McGonagall said but did so with attitude. He crossed his arms and glared at his head of house again. His eyes softened immediately when he saw her reprimanding look, reminding himself that the older woman meant him no harm. She had always stood up for him and did nothing wrong. It was that Slytherin serpent that had it in for him, after all.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Harry finally said, combing his hair with his fingers nervously. "That was uncalled for."

"Quite so, Mr Potter," McGonagall agreed. "If I may ask, why are you so upset?"

"Snape kicked me out of the lab," Harry said, anger still evident in his voice.

"_Professor_ Snape, Harry." Harry snorted at the correction. "And he did so per my request"

Harry looked up at McGonagall incredulously. He felt betrayed. Noticing Harry's sullen expression, McGonagall continued.

"Mr Potter, this is for your own good. I appreciate you trying to get a better grasp at potions. I really do! And professor Snape has told me how hard you've been working." She shot him a small smile. "I'm really impressed, honestly." Her stern look came back. "But your other classes are just as important. You need more than a good grade in potions to become an Auror. Please understand that I took these measures for _you_. You wouldn't want to fail, would you?"

Harry looked positively defeated. No, he did not want to fail and he did know that he had been doing worse, lately, but he was sure he could pick up the slack as soon as he was done with that Bubonic draught. It just took away _so_ much of his time.

"Harry, look at me." Harry looked up dejectedly. "This is only temporary. As soon as your grades are back to normal, I will allow you to continue your after-hours brewing, though I honestly don't know why you would. Professor Snape tells me your performance is more than adequate already. And just between you and me. For him, that's a huge compliment."

Harry smiled weakly at the attempt to make him feel better but didn't actually register the compliment.

"It is clear to me that you have to sleep more, as well," McGonagall continued, "You have dark circles under your eyes and other teachers have shared with me that you are dozing off in their class. I'm a bit worried about you."

"I get it, Professor," Harry said, hoping to cut the conversation short. He was starting to get annoyed. "I'll do better." He stood up to leave.

"See that you do. And Potter?" Harry glanced over his shoulder to meet McGonagall's gaze. "Professor Snape has never complimented one of my Gryffindors before. You must have really made an impression." Harry nodded and left quickly.

Way to make him feel even worse, McGonagall. _Now_ he felt guilty for acting the way he had in front of Snape. That, and for brewing an illegal potion under his nose. One more week and this sneaking around would be over; his friends would get off his back, he would be able to focus more on his homework again and he would finally get to start brewing the potions he actually needed!

So far he only got the Wound Cleaning Potion and not even a good one at that. Its expiration date was actually too soon but it was all he had. And now he was banned. Ugh, maybe he would just keep brewing potions in the basement. If Snape wasn't going to help him anymore, he would just have to do it on his own.

* * *

"What's wrong, mate?" Ron asked when Harry walked in. "You look pissed about something."

"It's McGonagall," Harry replied, "She doesn't want me to do extra lab work for potions anymore. Apparently, my grades have been falling." He shot a glare at Hermione, daring her to say something but she wisely kept her mouth shut.

"That's rough, pal," Ron said reflexively.

Not feeling the need or desire to speak to his friends about this, Harry decided to take McGonagall's advice and turn in early for the night.

"I'm tired," he just said and went to his dormitory.

* * *

_Harry's head lay in a shallow pool of something wet and sticky. With great effort, he lifted himself up slightly to identify the liquid as blood. He dipped a finger in the red substance. It was still warm. Was it his?_

_He looked around and saw that he was in the chamber of secrets again. He could hear the steady dripping of water echo off the walls. It was a deafening sound that made Harry cover his ears. Grey boulders lay strewn all over the floor as if they were broken pieces of a statue. The stone floor was cold and wet and showed the dark reflection of the ceiling above._

_He suddenly saw movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to look. There was uncle Vernon, a red gleam in his eyes and a malicious sneer curling his lips. In his hand, he held a cane with a sharp edge. Silver adorned the cane beautifully and when Harry looked closer, he saw that a small snake slithered around it. _

_Vernon came closer as Harry tried to step back but couldn't. He glanced down to see that his ankles were shackled to the floor. A long, snake-like tongue slipped out of Vernon's mouth as he licked his lips. His eyes became red slits and his teeth grew long and razor-sharp, seemingly dripping with venom. Despite being bound, Harry tried to break his chains by using his own feeble strength. Unsuccessful, he stumbled backwards, Vernon looming over him dangerously. _

"_Please," Harry pleaded. But he couldn't hear his own voice. _

_Cold, dangerous laughter emanated from Vernon's gaping mouth as he started bringing the cane down on Harry. He screamed, wounds opening, blood streaming but no one could hear him. He was all alone._

* * *

"Harry, come on, wake up," Someone shook Harry roughly. When Harry became aware of the invading presence, his eyes shot open. He realized that he was screaming and immediately shut his mouth with a click from his teeth. Ron just stood there, his hands still on Harry's shoulder, a frown on his face. When Harry looked around the room he could see everyone staring at him. His face flushing with embarrassment, he met Ron's gaze again.

"What time is it?" He noticed his voice was hoarse. Probably from the screaming. Oh God and everyone had heard him.

"A little past six," Ron replied. "Harry, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Ron. I was just having a nightmare." Harry did _not_ want to get into this right now.

Ron didn't seem to share his wish. "Blimey, Harry! Some nightmare alright! Don't worry, though. It happens. I remember this one time, I was dreaming about Charley coming after me with a dragon! And – "

"Ron, no offence, but I kind of don't want to talk about it," Harry mumbled. Still feeling the unwelcome gazes of his fellow Gryffindors burning on his body, Harry decided to get dressed and go down to the common rooms. He had slept enough anyways. Ron threw him one last worried glance before climbing back into his bed, much to Harry's relief.

Harry nestled himself in front of the fireplace in which nothing but soft glowing embers remained and decided to take another look at his Transfiguration assignment to see where he could make some improvements.

* * *

"I'm surprised you didn't hear anything, Hermione," Ron said, shaking his head as he told the story of Harry's nightmare, with Harry _right_ there. Hermione shot him a glance while stirring the potion.

"Ronald, be quiet, I'm trying to concentrate," Hermione admonished, sensing Harry's discomfort and trying to get Ron to stop. Or maybe she really did want to concentrate. The potion was almost done. In fact, Hermione thought this would be the last time they would need to come here. Harry was relieved, though he wasn't about to tell his friends that. Hermione had spelled bubbles filled with air around each of the trio's heads.

"To protect us against the fumes," she had clarified. she didn't have to explain why to Harry. He knew that during the final phase of making this potion, toxic fumes would be released that were not all that dangerous really, unless you were the one actually standing over the cauldron, creating the brew, breathing in large quantities of the fumes. Ron _did_ need the explanation as he clearly hadn't even bothered to read the recipe.

"Everyone in our dormitory woke up. Harry, what were you even dreaming about?" Ron continued, completely ignoring Hermione.

"The Chamber of Secrets," Harry admitted, the annoyance in his voice yet undetected by Ron.

"Oh yeah, that was bad! Poor Ginny," mused Ron, muttering to himself for a while. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and went back to focusing on his part of the potion which was to stir three times clockwise every time Hermione chucked a dried seahorse into the brew. She timed it meticulously because this had to happen every 10 seconds. Ron was in charge of the fire. It was important that the concoction did not change temperatures dramatically. But he was far from attentive.

"Was it the basilisk, Harry? Did you dream about the snake? Or maybe of the younger You Know – "

"Let it go, Ron!" Hermione suddenly hissed, before Harry could do the exact same thing. Unfortunately, when she turned around abruptly to sneer at Ron, she accidentally threw her entire platter of dried seahorses in the cauldron, tray and all.

"Oh, no," Hermione whispered. She made a motion to quickly fish out the ingredients but Harry stopped her before she could burn her hands.

"Oh Harry, it's ruined," she cried. "This is all your fault!" she added, pointing a finger at Ron.

"Hey, I didn't even touch the seahorses," Ron defended, hands raised in surrender.

"You just _had_ to – Look out!" The cauldron started to sputter and spit. The potion's colour, which had been a gorgeous blue until now, turned blood red and then, without prompting, it became a foul black. Small bubbles started to form in the liquid and when they popped, a dark sort of smoke erupted from them that went up to the ceiling immediately. There was so much smoke that the trio almost couldn't see each other anymore.

"Evanesco!" Harry heard Hermione shout. The concoction was gone immediately but the black smoke that had escaped remained. Harry felt someone grab his hand and pull him forward with a sharp tug. He followed and saw that Hermione was tugging both him and Ron out of the black smoke, the collapsible cauldron and the cloak of invisibility tucked under her arm. When they were at the stairs leading out of the basement, Harry quickly checked his map. Thankfully, not a soul was around. They made a mad dash towards Gryffindor tower and were relieved to have made it there without getting caught.

"What the bloody hell?" Ron exclaimed a bit too loudly once they were in the common rooms.

"Hush, Ron," Hermione hissed. "You'll wake everyone up."

"Okay, but what happened, Hermione?" Ron asked, a bit more quietly this time.

"I… don't know," she admitted, completely baffled. "I've never read about a potion acting up the way ours just did. I don't understand."

"What do you reckon that black smoke was?" Harry questioned.

Hermione just shook her head again. "No clue, really. But we were protected by my bubble charm. It must've been more of those harmful fumes that the recipe warns you about."

Harry doubted that. The fumes that had escaped from the potion earlier were clear. The smoke had been completely back. But he figured there was no use thinking about it now. No one had been around. No one had been harmed. The only sad thing was that the potion they had been working on for a month now, had failed completely. He glanced at both of his friends. Ron had taken a great interest in his shoes, obviously feeling somewhat guilty, while Hermione held her chin between her thumb and index finger, in deep thought.

"What do we do now?" Harry asked. He wasn't sure if they should alert anyone or not. Though revealing that they had been sneaking out almost every evening for the past month was sure to get them in a heap of trouble. They might even get expelled. The Dursleys would surely have a field day with that one.

"Just let things be, I would say," Hermione replied. "Nothing was damaged and no one was hurt. I see no need to get ourselves in trouble.

Harry agreed wholeheartedly. No need for that indeed. He would just sleep this whole debacle off and starting tomorrow, he would be able to focus on his homework a whole lot more.

* * *

_I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I think the next one will be very eventful._

_Please remember to leave my hard-working self a review. It is always very much appreciated. I know you can do it!_

**_Last revised on 14/02/2020_**


	7. Chapter 7

_Here I am again! I had to think long and hard about this chapter. I knew what goal I wanted to reach here but I wasn't quite sure about the way I would go about it. I feel like I managed okay though, so I hope you'll enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 7**

Over the course of the next month, Harry worked harder than he ever had, trying to get his grades back up to where they were supposed to be. He often joined Hermione in the library to work with her on their essays. She didn't exactly spell out what he needed to write but she gave helpful hints like what he should be focusing on and in which book he could research what. Ron hadn't exactly joined them in their efforts but he didn't seem annoyed about it either. He seemed to have finally accepted Harry's new studious approach to his homework and left him to it. Harry had made sure to occasionally get bested in wizards chess by the redhead, or fly with him around the Quidditch pitch, taking turns on the Firebolt.

Hermione, on the other hand, didn't seem to need any more extra time with Harry. She had been happy enough having a study buddy to pass the time with and didn't seem to mind Harry running off to Ron the second he thought his work to be satisfactory. Harry had certainly felt a lot less stressed without the additional brewing both against the rules and with consent. He was almost inclined to just stop going to the lab, even when his grades went up again, but he couldn't do that. His goal still firm in his mind, he felt motivated to at least brew a couple of the things he needed this year. How had he spent all that time with Snape without getting to brew what he wanted? So many odd things had happened.

The first Quidditch match of the year had been against Ravenclaw. Suffice to say they got creamed by the Gryffindors. They had managed to score one goal while Gryffindor scored seven. After that, Harry had quickly caught the snitch, landing triumphantly in the pitch, winning the match and earning Gryffindor one hundred and fifty points. Okay, scratch that, it was the entire team that earned those. Everyone had celebrated vigorously in the common rooms. Sure, it was only the first match of the season but they were feeling invincible, certain that they would be champions this year. They would probably have to go against Slytherin in the finals seeing how the snakes were going to have to go against Hufflepuff. Unfortunately, their celebratory meal had been sort of meagre. It was obvious that the team was sort of disappointed when there were only three different dishes to choose from but there was still plenty to placate their hunger.

Hermione, who was sitting next to Harry, was staring at a loaf of bread with a mixture of confusion and anxiety on her face as if the two emotions were battling to see which would win.

"What's up, 'Mione?" Ron asked with a mouth full of half-chewed roast. Hermione looked at him in disgust before motioning towards the food on the table.

"Haven't you noticed?" she asked incredulously. "There is less and less variety in our food choices, lately."

"Maybe because we're nearing the Christmas holiday?" Harry tried. "Perhaps they're trying to put the last of their stock to good use so the leftovers won't spoil."

"Harry, this is a magic school," Hermione said as if she couldn't believe how dense Harry was being. "They have ways to keep the food fresh." Harry just shrugged at her response.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Hermione. To me, this _still_ constitutes as a feast. I'm not going to complain."

"I'm not complaining! I just think – "

Hermione was interrupted when Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat loudly. It took mere seconds before the entire hall was silenced and every student was staring at the bearded wizard, the usual sparkle in his eyes all but gone. A few students that had gone to the bathroom, hurriedly scurried back into their seats when they saw what was going on, one of them with his robes tucked into his pants.

When Harry looked at the head table, he noticed that many teachers were missing. Snape wasn't there and had actually been absent from the table for weeks now. Professor McGonagall was also gone, as was Hagrid. The table looked empty and depressing without the big, hairy half-giant there, telling jokes and waving at Harry occasionally. Harry was pulled out of his internal musings when Dumbledore spoke.

"My dear students. It is a pleasure to see you all sitting here, happy and healthy, enjoying a well-earned meal after another day that was no doubt filled with studying and working hard." A knowing smile was visible on his lips.

"Well done to Gryffindor for winning the first Quidditch match of the year!" the Gryffindor table cheered loudly, while the Slytherin table sneered at them but Dumbledore quickly held up his hand in a compelling motion to demand silence once more. His smile had completely vanished now.

"Unfortunately, I have some bad news to share with all of you. As you have no doubt noticed, the food that has been put on your table has lessened considerably in splendour and multitude." A few students nodded.

"This is because the Hogwarts house-elves have one by one been falling ill. It would appear as if they have contracted a form of the black cat flue." Some students gasped, others started to whisper and Harry saw how Hermione became deathly pale.

"So far, no students have become ill at the hands of this new epidemic," Dumbledore continued. "We have been able to contain the spread to the basement. The house-elves that are sick have been put in quarantine and are under the care of Madame Pomfrey as well as Hagrid who has expertise in the care for magical creatures. Professor Snape is working hard to brew a cure as we speak. As you all no doubt understand, it is the lack of house-elves that has caused the diminishing effect on your meals as well as other tasks such as the cleaning of your dormitories.

Unfortunately, this also means that we – in all probability – will not be able to house any students during the Christmas Holiday. I let you know this now in order for you to have plenty of time to warn your parents so they can make the proper arrangements."

Harry felt his heart skip a few beats and a pain made its way to his chest. For many reasons, he felt as if the world was crashing down around him. The house-elves were getting sick? Contained to the basement? Was this their doing? He wouldn't be able to stay here for Christmas? So that would mean he was going to have to go back to the Dursleys. No, maybe he could ask Ron and Hermione if he could stay with them. Did Snape know it was because of a potion that the elves got sick? Had they left any shred of evidence from their brewing? Were they supposed to come clean? They might get expelled! _What had they done_? Harry felt his breathing become more shallow and tried his best to keep himself under control.

Before he could linger in his thoughts much longer, Hermione had forcibly pulled him and an exasperated looking Ron away from the Great Hall and into the nearest room she could find. After checking carefully that no one else was actually in the room, she turned to the two boys. Harry knew he had an expression of pure dread on his face but saw that Ron had no idea what Hermione was fussing about.

"I wasn't done eating, yet!" He complained loudly. "What's this all about?"

"What this is about, _Ronald,_ is that we are probably the cause of the house-elves getting sick!" At last, Ron lost all colour in his face, finally getting the connection.

"You don't think – "

"Oh, but I do," Hermione groaned. She turned to Harry. "Harry, we have to tell Professor Snape."

"Wait, what? Hermione, he is _literally_ going to kill us." Harry could see his murderous glare in front of him at that moment. He shuddered involuntarily.

"Oh don't be so dramatic, Harry," Hermione retorted. She was acting strong but Harry could tell that she was worried. Her face was pale and her hands were trembling. He saw tears starting to form in her eyes.

"Hermione, it will be okay," Ron said, noticing how distraught she was. "Maybe we don't have to tell Snape." But Hermione shook her head furiously.

"What if he can't brew a cure because he doesn't know how the house-elves got sick in the first place?" Tears were starting to fall. "Do you want to wait to come clean until they start dying?" she started sobbing dramatically. "Oh Ron, We're going to get expelled!"

Ron wrapped his arms around her while she leaned into his chest to start bawling her eyes out. Harry knew she was right. It might look like this _black cat flue_ but it was most likely something to do with their failed experiment. If Snape didn't have all the pieces of the puzzle, he might not be able to solve it. And house elves or not, Harry would not wait to act until there were casualties.

"I'll take the blame," Harry suddenly blurted out. Ron's eyes grew as wide as saucers while Hermione turned her red face to look at him.

"Harry, mate, we can't let you do that," Ron said. "We're in this together." But Hermione said nothing. She was probably contemplating what to do.

"Look, Ron, Hermione, there is no point in getting the three of us expelled," Harry said courageously. "Besides, I'm sure Dumbledore will stick his neck out for me." He emphasised his confidence by showing off a big wide grin but his heart was full of doubt. Ron seemed at a loss for words. Hermione dug herself out of Ron's embrace and suppressed a quiet sob. She seemed to be done crying.

"Are you sure, Harry?" she asked.

"Positive!" Harry exclaimed. But his mind was racing. _Of course, I'm not sure. I can't get expelled. Where would I go? Snape might actually kill me, though. Maybe that would be for the best. Oh Merlin, what do I do?_

"We really owe you one, Harry," Ron sighed, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, staring at the floor. He seemed to feel really guilty for letting Harry take the fall but they all knew Harry was right. There was no point in getting everyone in trouble.

"Well, I better get this over with," Harry tried to sound confident. Somehow, he had managed to keep his voice from shaking but he needed to get out of there before he changed his mind.

Fast-paced he went straight to the dungeons. He encountered sneering Slytherins but paid none of them any mind. Some of them tried to taunt him or otherwise distract him to get him into trouble but Harry ignored all of them and went straight to his target.

Why was this a good idea again?

* * *

He stood in front of Snape's office for a long time, the door closed. He had raised his fist to knock but was unable to will himself to actually do it. _Come on_. He told himself. _You have to tell him_. _The longer you wait, the worse it will get._

But the long wait deprived Harry of the chance to actually knock. Suddenly the door flew open quite forcibly with an annoyed looking Snape standing on the other end of the doorway.

"Honestly, Potter, _must_ you linger outside of my office so obviously? I have to concentrate on my work and your gallivanting is not particularly helpful."

Harry opened his mouth a couple of times, trying to form words, but failed miserably. He must, however, have had a rather hopeless look in his eyes because for a moment, he could've sworn he saw a twinge of worry in Snape's gaze before his icy stare returned.

"Come in, Potter," Snape said evenly. When Harry didn't move, Snape growled lowly and dragged Harry inside by his arm, pushing him down into a seat.

"I do not have time for any extracurricular activities, Potter," He droned, "Nor do I have time for whatever high school drama you seem to want to talk to me about. You will tell me what it is you want of me swiftly and effectively so I can get back to my duties."

When Harry met Snape's gaze once more he saw that the Potions Master appeared tired. While no emotion was visible on his face, the bags beneath his eyes could not be concealed. Now, Harry felt even more guilty.

"If you continue refusing to talk, Potter, I see no reason why I shouldn't throw you out of my office again." Snape was already dragging Harry back to his feet and shoving him towards the door when Harry finally spoke.

"It was me," He confessed. Snape stopped shoving Harry and let go. Harry turned around carefully only to find Snape standing right behind him. Reflexively, Harry took a few steps back.

"To what mischief are you confessing, Potter?" Snape inquired, "And why is it important to relay this information to me? I'm sure that professor McGonagall is apt enough to punish you for whatever disruption you have caused."

Harry wanted to glare at the bastard. He was making this so difficult. But knowing exactly what it was he had done, he thought it best not to show any attitude right now.

"I'm the one who made the house-elves sick." A hint of amusement was visible on Snape's face.

"Honestly Potter, did you happen to sneeze on a house-elf, now believing you are the solitary cause of this epidemic?" This time, Harry could not suppress a glare, no matter how hard he tried.

"Would you just listen?" he finally said. Snape sneered but said nothing.

"It was me. I have been brewing a potion in the basement and at the last moment, it went very wrong. I didn't think there were any consequences or that anyone had been hurt, but black smoke had escaped from the potion before it vanished it and – well – I think that could have been the reason."

During Harry's explanation, Snape's expression had darkened considerably. Anger was visible on every fibre of his body. His hands trembled, no doubt with the desire to strangle Harry where he stood. Suddenly, as swift as a bird of prey, Snape was upon him. He had approached Harry with a threatening gait, causing him to step back in defence until his back was against the wall, but that didn't stop Snape. He loomed over Harry with an all-consuming aura, his face so close to Harry's that he could feel Snape's breath on his forehead, hands on either side of Harry's head, giving him no chance to escape. His gaze did not relinquish Harry's horror-filled eyes.

"Explain," he whispered harshly, his voice laced with poison, his body poised to strike. Harry almost fainted on the spot. He felt his legs wobble, and the blood drain from his face. Had he been any younger, he was sure he would have burst into tears right then and there.

"Now, Potter! Explain!" Snape sounded absolutely furious. And why wouldn't he be?

Harry gulped, deciding then and there that he had cowered enough. It was time to set things right.

"I wanted to try brewing the bubonic draught. Just to see if I could. I had been working on it for months and the potion was almost ready when I accidentally… stumbled and threw my entire platter of dried seahorses into the cauldron. That's when everything went to hell."

"Language, Potter," spat Snape. He looked as if he had many questions to follow up after Harry's short tale of ruin. When he finally decided on his follow-up he leaned - if at all possible - even closer to his victim.

"What occurred precisely when you botched the potion?" Snape asked dangerously, his tone warning Harry not to lie or omit anything. Harry's lips felt dry but he suppressed the urge to lick them. If only Snape would back off somewhat. He thought hard about what had happened.

"The potion went from blue to red for a few seconds before it became black. Bubbles appeared on the potion and from the bubbles, some black smoke escaped."

Snape was looking at Harry as if he was inspecting him. As if he was looking for something. A hint of untruthfulness perhaps?

"How come you're not sick, Potter?" He asked, the venom never leaving his voice.

"Bubble charm," Harry replied shortly. He didn't see how that mattered and just wanted this conversation to be over already so he could face the consequences.

Snape stood there for what seemed to be several minutes, never leaving his awkward position, hovering over Harry who started to squirm uncomfortably. Eventually, he pulled away and just stood there, glaring at Harry as if not knowing what to say. Harry could've sworn he saw a flicker of disappointment in Snape's eyes and even if he had just imagined it, it _hurt_. Harry slid down the wall almost involuntarily. His legs couldn't carry him anymore.

"You insolent brat!" Snape suddenly yelled at Harry who flinched because of the sudden loud noise. "I was wrong when I said you were as bad as your father. Oh no, you are far worse! Your blatant disrespect for the rules is only overshadowed by your clear absence of concern for others! What were you even trying to achieve, concocting a potion as useless as the Bubonic draught?"

Harry didn't think he was actually meant to answer that question.

"Professor, I'm sorry!" Harry pleaded as he clambered to his feet again, holding himself steady against the wall.

"Sorry?" Snape spat. "Sorry does not cure the dozens of house-elves you have incapacitated, Potter!"  
Snape furrowed his brow and squeezed the bridge of his nose with his right hand.

"I immediately knew that you were a spoiled, arrogant, ignorant brat the moment you first set foot in my class, Potter, but I had not expected to see quite _such_ a lack of judgement. I must say I am terribly disappointed by your actions."

Harry remained silent, fearful that his words, when spoken, would do harm instead of good. He watched how Snape paced up and down his office until he came face to face with a closet which he tipped over in anger. Harry cringed at the glass he could hear breaking inside. Snape was breathing heavily while Harry held his own breath, worried still at the outcome that could and should not be good.

"If I was your head of house, Potter, I would see to it that your wand was snapped in half," Snape growled between gritted teeth. "Since I, unfortunately, do not have that power, I will make sure to inform your head of house as well as Professor Dumbledore just what it is that you have done and I will see to it personally that you, in fact, will at the very least get expelled."

He threw one last furious glare at Harry - who almost expected to simply catch fire under the Potions Master's suffocating stare - and banged his fist hard against the wall.

"Get. Out." He said, barely a whisper. But when Harry didn't move, he raised his voice.

"Get out, I said! Before I do something I'll regret, Potter! Get out now!" Furiously, he used his wand to open his door. Harry took the chance to flee the office and felt a rush of wind when the door closed shut behind him with a loud slam. He heard the sound of more breaking glass and felt a familiar ache in his chest.

What had he done?

* * *

_Oh, Harry, what have you done indeed? I hope you all liked this chapter. I sure loved writing it.  
Please review and let me know your thoughts. I haven't mastered occlumency after all._

**_Last revised on 14/02/2020_**


	8. Chapter 8

_Here we are with the latest chapter. It was difficult to write for me. The most difficult yet. I hope the result is as expected though. Thanks, everyone for reviewing! It really motivated me to get through this chapter even if I encountered some issues along the way._

* * *

**Chapter 8**

"Mr Potter, look at me."

Harry looked up to meet the severe gaze of professor McGonagall. She stood up straight, back rigid, and her stern eyes peering over her glasses. She looked angry as well as worried. Was it for Harry's wellbeing or perhaps that of the house-elves? Her clothes were dishevelled as if she had been in bed when Snape had told her of Harry's horribly misguided exploits. Much to Harry's dismay yet not entirely unexpected, Professor Dumbledore was also standing there. He looked absolutely miserable. Was it because he knew he had no choice but to expel Harry?

Harry did as McGonagall said and looked straight at her, a forlorn look in his eyes.

"What you have done, Mr Potter, is inexcusable, intolerable and was utterly misguided. Could you explain to me why you thought this a good idea?"

_Good question,_ Harry thought. He hadn't thought it was a good idea. Not ever. He had just wanted to mend his friendships. Thinking of a lie to tell, he squirmed in his seat.

"I wanted to improve," He lied, lowering his gaze again. "I never believed that the potion could have bad results when it failed. It was supposed to be a curative draught." Despair laced his voice thickly. Tears were starting to form in his eyes. "Please don't expel me."

He heard both professors sigh deeply and looked up once more.

"Harry," Dumbledore now said, disappointment clear in his voice. "Despite Professor Snape clearly advocating for your expulsion, Professor McGonagall and I do not share his sentiment. Yes, it is clear that you had a terrible lack of judgement with dire consequences indeed but there is a slight redeeming factor." Dumbledore actually smiled ever so slightly before his frown returned.

"You had the common sense to go to Professor Snape and explain what you did. Because of this, he will now be able to brew a potion suitable for helping all of the victims. That was commendable in itself and must have taken great courage. Especially when facing one of your, as I am well aware, less-liked professors." Harry thought he detected a glint of curiosity in Dumbledore's voice.

"If I may ask, Mr Potter, why _did_ you, in fact, go to Professor Snape?"

"I thought it best to report directly to the person brewing the cure, sir," Harry replied dutifully. "So he could have all the information directly from – well – the source."

"Commendable indeed, Mr Potter," Dumbledore praised.

"Nevertheless," McGonagall interrupted, no doubt not liking the turn the conversation had taken. "Your transgression cannot be overlooked. You broke many rules all at once. At least you are now aware of why we have these rules in place, don't you, Mr Potter?" Harry nodded. He felt so alone at that moment. So very miserable. Nausea started to overcome him little by little. He found it hard to ignore the disappointment being thrown at him from every corner. And not only from the two professors sitting in front of him.

"As for your punishment, first of all, you cost Gryffindor one hundred points," McGonagall started. "Second of all, you _will_ work with Professor Snape on the cure for the house-elves. He needs all the help he can get and has, quite frankly, already overexerted himself because of your need to show off the brewing of an ancient potion."

Great, more guilt to flood Harry's brain. Hadn't he had enough of that yet?

"Third of all, you will not be surprised to learn that you will be serving detention every Tuesday from now on until the end of the year, once again with Professor Snape. No, don't look at me like that, Mr Potter. Your transgression first and foremost has its roots in the brewing of a potion. You no doubt stole the ingredients from Professor Snape plus you also stole the recipe from the forbidden section. Perhaps he will be able to show you just how dangerous it is to brew beyond your level."

"But he hates me!" Harry exclaimed loudly, covering his mouth immediately. He hadn't meant his brief outburst. He knew that he deserved what was coming to him. But with Snape? Harry wasn't sure he would survive the resentful Potion Master's wrath.

"I'm sure you can forgive him any feelings of animosity he currently has for you, Mr Potter," McGonagall replied flatly. "Though I assure you he does not hate you." Harry couldn't manage to suppress a snort at that comment.

"Mind your attitude, Mr Potter, lest you get expelled after all," McGonagall berated.

"Yes, Professor. Sorry," Harry replied softly.

"Lastly, Mr Potter, you are hereby stripped of your role as seeker on the quidditch team," McGonagall said. Harry's head jerked up suddenly, his eyes wide. They were taking away quidditch?

"Perhaps you can try to re-join the team at the start of the the next school year." Harry wanted to fight, kick, curse someone but when he looked into the pained eyes of his head of house, he realised that she didn't like his punishment any more than he did. So he just complied and hung his head.

"You are excused, Mr Potter," McGonagall then said.

"Just a second, Minerva," Dumbledore interrupted. He turned his gaze to Harry, an emotion in his eyes that Harry could not quite place.

"Harry, I would ask you kindly to give professor Snape your most heartfelt apology. I know you two don't exactly see eye to eye but he was severely disappointed in you, nonetheless. I'm sure he would appreciate it if he knew, like I do, how sorry you are."

Harry inhaled deeply and nodded once more.

"I'll try, Professor. If he'll listen."

Dumbledore smiled and waved towards the door. "Excellent, Harry! Now please go get some rest. I'm sure you'll need it."

* * *

When Harry reached the Gryffindor common room, he saw Ron and Hermione there, already waiting for him. He had expected no less.

"Oh, Harry, how did it go?" Hermione asked. Harry simply told his friends about the punishment he had received. Hermione looked relieved, probably because Harry was not, in fact, expelled. Ron though, had a very sour look on his face.

"You got kicked off the quidditch team?" He asked incredulously. "McGonagall must be bonkers! There's no way the team can win without you!" Harry smiled a bit at the concern and concealed praise.

"I'm afraid they're just going to have to find another seeker. At least for this term," He replied evenly.

"And detention with Snape, all year long. Harry, he's going to kill you!" Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron's drama mongering but had the decency to keep the guilt locked tightly in her gaze.

"Harry, I'm so sorry," She said once again. Harry didn't know if he could listen to many more apologies.

"I owe you one, big time. We both do! If there's ever _anything_ you need us to do for you. Anything at all, we will do it." She looked sincere when she said it. Even Ron didn't object. But Harry could think of nothing at the moment.

"If that time ever comes, I'll hold you to it," he replied, a weak smile gracing his lips. "Now if you'll excuse me, I am beat."

His friends nodded and joined him in retreating to their comfy four-poster beds.

"Oh, Harry, before I forget," Ron said absentmindedly. "I asked my mum if you could come over for Christmas but she said that it would be a bad time this year. We're all going to visit Charley in Romania, you see. And Hermione's parents are taking her skiing." Harry felt his heart sink in his stomach. He had nearly forgotten about _that_ part of his punishment. The gods did _not_ have mercy on him. Not that he deserved any.

"Sorry, Harry, maybe next year," Ron concluded, no doubt trying to inspire hope. "G'night."

"Yeah, G'night," Harry replied absentmindedly.

He buried his head into his comfy pillow, thoughts whirring through his mind like angry bees protecting their hive. He would have to owl his aunt and uncle in the morning. That alone would get them very angry. Ugh, why was there no regular post possible at Hogwarts? Harry cast a precautionary silencing spell around his bed. It didn't take long for him to succumb to restless sleep.

* * *

_Dead house-elves and students lay piled into a corner of the dungeons. Snape was stirring absentmindedly in a cauldron but when Harry looked inside, it was empty. Black smoke floated overhead and birds started to fall from the sky. Hedwig was among them. _

"_What have you done, Harry?" Snape asked, his voice sorrowful and hurt. "I trusted you." He turned to look at Harry and revealed bloodshot eyes, and greyish cracked skin, greasy hair falling out of his skull as he spoke._

"_I'm sorry," Harry sputtered. "I want to help."_

_Snape just shook his head sadly._

"_It is too late. Too late for anyone. Too late for me."_

* * *

Harry opened his eyes and realized he was crying. A wave of nausea washed over him once more, just like it had done in McGonagall's office. This time, however, he could not contain himself. He rushed to the bathroom and only barely managed to close the door before leaning over a toilet, emptying the contents of his stomach. It was still pitch black out. Everyone was still asleep. Except, probably, for Snape who was most likely standing over a cauldron right now, experimenting until he invented a potion that would work. Guilt swept over Harry once more followed by a new wave of nausea. He leaned over the toilet again and heaved. The food that was in his stomach was long gone, making the aching cramps of his abdomen hurt all the more. Bile was all he could expel at the moment.

Harry's nausea no longer went away so he spent the remainder of the night slouched against the toilet bowl, eventually overcome by sleep which remained blissfully dreamless this time.

* * *

"Harry, wake up," a voice said, shaking Harry awake. He groggily opened his eyes to see Ron kneeling next to him, Neville and Seamus in the doorway with worried expressions on their faces.

"Are you feeling alright, mate?" Ron asked worriedly.

"I'm fine" Harry grumbled, half of his brain still asleep. He pushed himself off the ground and shakily stood up straight. His body ached from sleeping on a stone-cold floor and he stretched to try and work out the kinks.

"You look like crap, Harry," Ron urged. "Are you sure – " But Harry shot him a glare that said '_how do you _think_ I feel after yesterday'_ so Ron shut his mouth.

"Come on Harry, some of us need to pee," Seamus urged. So Harry gave him a sheepish grin and hurriedly left the bathroom. What a disgrace he was turning out to be. Without another word, he got dressed and walked to the Great Hall with Ron in tow. He was starting to discover that he was _not_ a morning person.

At breakfast, he saw McGonagall and even Snape sitting at the head table again, enjoying breakfast. Well, Snape seemed to be torn between shovelling as much food in his mouth as fast as he could and eating with decorum while McGonagall had barely touched her food.

Harry had hardly begun contemplating how he still felt nauseous and didn't want to give his stomach more ammo to fire with, when a large grass owl suddenly dropped a small piece of parchment into his lap.

_My office after breakfast. No detours!_

Harry recognised the hasty scratching as Snape's. And when he looked at the head table to confirm his suspicions, he was met with a dark glare accompanied by a sour sneer. This Saturday was sure going to turn out to be pleasurable indeed. Blushing with shame, Harry quickly turned away to look at his empty plate again.

"Not hungry, Harry?" Hermione asked worriedly. Harry just shook his head and passed her the note. She read it and sighed.

"Well, that was fast. Don't worry Harry. I'll get started on your History of Magic's essay for you. I know how much you dread it."

Harry smiled weakly and nodded, but he thought to himself that spending the whole day with Snape would be far more dreadful. He appreciated the attempt at reconciliation Hermione made, though. One less tiny thing to worry about after all.

* * *

When Harry went to Snape's office, he didn't have to stand in front of the door long. It magically flew open. Did Snape have a sixth sense when it came to students loitering in front of his door? Snape didn't even look at him but gestured for him to come inside. The door slammed closed loudly as soon as Harry had crossed the threshold. He walked up to the cutting station Snape had pointed towards. Nothing was on it yet.

"Wha-" but as soon as Harry uttered that first syllable, Snape dropped a mountain of salmon on Harry's station with enough force to make him jump. He also slammed two large bowls in front of Harry who was shocked that they weren't broken by the sheer force of the angry man's actions.

"Entrails in here, the rest in here," Snape growled, pointing at the left and right bowl respectively. Harry heard pure undiluted anger in every syllable Snape uttered and swallowed hard, holding back the urge to cry. He felt his chest tighten, and his face pale as he started to get to work. He removed the guts from the fish as best he could and placed them gingerly in the left bowl. He was going to do his absolute best to do well, even if this task was disgusting and vile. It certainly did nothing to alleviate his nausea.

Harry thought it would be best to work in silence. Every now and then he felt Snape's gaze burning into him with anger more violent than he imagined even Vernon to have for him. But he kept at it, working gingerly in trying to restore at least the smallest bit of trust. Every now and then, Harry would wipe his brow with his forearm, feeling sweat form as he worked. He wasn't feeling too good. Perhaps it had been the rude awakening of that night. Or maybe it was because he had spent the remainder of said night hanging from a bacteria-infested toilet seat, sleeping on cold tiles. Who was to say? It mattered not. Harry had to perform adequately, even if it was just for the house-elves that he and his friends had – well – poisoned really.

A few hours went by and Harry was growing tired of the menial labour. At least he hadn't felt Snape's eyes burn on him much more. He was moving a lot slower than he had at the beginning of the day. The pile of fish was almost dealt with. But it was so hot and Harry was so thirsty. Maybe he would dare to ask for a quick break after he finished the fish. He grabbed another salmon with a trembling hand and wanted to stick his knife into it as he had for the last couple of hours but he was having difficulties. He saw how his knife-wielding hand was also trembling and worried that he might cut himself. His vision was blurry every now and then as well. _Focus Harry_, he told himself. He aimed carefully and plunged his knife into the fish or he would have had a hand not grabbed his own.

Completely caught off guard, Harry looked up from his station to see Snape looming over him yet again, a firm grip on his hand. Harry hadn't even noticed Snape get up. How long had he been standing there? Harry let go of the knife to signify that he meant no harm and listened to it drop on the counter. For a while, Snape just stared at Harry, not saying a word.

"You are not well," He finally noted. His voice was emotionless.

"I'm almost done, sir," Harry replied meekly. He couldn't bear to disappoint Snape even more. "If I can take a break after I'm done with the fish, please, I will be fine."

"Out of the question," Snape's icy tone seemed to cut Harry. "I will not have you spoil my ingredients by having you regurgitate on them. Now get out and go see Madame Pomfrey, or go sleep. I don't care. Just make yourself scarce."

"No sir, I want to help," Harry protested weakly, attempting to pick up the dropped knife with his free hand. But Snape tightened his grip and forced Harry backwards.

"I will not tolerate your disobedience, Potter," Snape spat dangerously. "You _will_ listen to me. I don't care how delirious you are." Harry dared not disagree a second time and nodded. Snape all but threw him out of the lab and closed the door again, not even sparing Harry a second glance.

Harry wasn't entirely sure why he felt the way he did. The Potions Master had never been particularly nice to him. Since the first day Snape had laid eyes on him, he had done his best to make Harry's life a living hell. And honestly, Harry had been used to it. Figures of authority had rarely shown him warmth and kindness. Dumbledore was an obvious exception but Harry didn't really see him that often. Dumbledore didn't even really know him.

But he had the feeling that he had gotten Snape to at least tolerate him a bit more since the start of this term. He had been somewhat friendlier… maybe? He had definitely helped Harry improve at potions and it even seemed that they had reached a mutual understanding in which Harry would give his best efforts and Snape would not embarrass him for it. Dare he say it, but Harry finally had the idea that for once an adult had shown an interest in him. That, at last, someone had cared. But even if that had been true, Harry had thrown it all away.

He stumbled through the dungeons, struggling to stay on his feet. He really _was_ sick. When did that even happen? Harry glanced over his shoulder a couple of times during his walk of shame, expecting that the Potions Master might still come after him to make sure Harry would get back safely. But he never came. And why would he? Harry had betrayed his trust and made him so angry.

Harry decided that he was not going to go to the medical wing. He was sure that Madame Pomfrey had enough on her plate at that moment. He would just sleep it off. Whatever it was.

When he reached friendlier territory, it wasn't long before he encountered Fred and George Weasley who noticed his dishevelled appearance and quickly helped him get back to the dormitories. They deposited him unceremoniously onto his bed. Fred tucked him in mockingly while George kissed Harry on the forehead, both of them laughing as they left. While Harry had laughed with them, he felt a pang of sadness, knowing it was exactly that kind of attention that he would never get. It was all he could do to '_Silencio'_ his bed before giving in to the drowsiness that plagued him. Soon, he was being engulfed by a feverous sleep.

* * *

It didn't take long for Harry to get better from whatever bug he had had. He just stayed in bed for a couple of days and drank plenty of fluids. He didn't need anything more to get him back on his feet. He never had before. He knew the drill. Sure it would have helped to sleep through the night once or twice but he couldn't even recall the last time that had happened.

As soon as he felt up to it again, he had gone back to Snape to help him prepare the cure. With great personal effort, Snape had allowed Harry to help him out again and had given him all tasks that involved preparing the ingredients, clearly not caring for Harry to do anything in relation to making the actual potion.

Even when they were in class, Snape insisted on partnering Harry up with one of his most trusted Slytherins every time so he could be sure that he wouldn't 'conjure the plague upon the entire class'. Most of the time, this meant that Harry was coupled with Draco Malfoy. If Harry had had any fight left in him, that would have been a volatile combination. But he kept his mouth shut and accepted things as they were, following Draco's instructions. The blonde seemed unhappy with how willing Harry had been to roll over but it made everything a lot easier.

The week of Christmas, Snape had finally completed the antidote and administered it to every house elf that had gotten sick. For one moment, Harry had dared hope that he wouldn't have to go back to the Dursleys but Snape had smashed that hope with a sneer.

"The elves, though cured, will need to rebuild their strength, which requires rest. Everyone will still need to go home for the holidays." He had then focused his gaze on Harry, hate simmering powerfully in his eyes. "I'm sure that _you_ don't mind an extra week of getting pampered and spoiled, Potter, but some of the students had rather _not_ gone back. I hope you're pleased with yourself."

But pleased was a sentiment far from what Harry was feeling. It was only one week, though. What could possibly go wrong, right? Going back home, he had packed the slightly less potent Murtlap Essence, hoping it would at least take the edge off. Hopefully, the Dursleys would be in the Christmas spirit. Yeah. They might even allow Harry some of the Christmas roast.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

* * *

_And there we go. The next chapter Harry will be back at the Dursleys. How will that play out? Please review! It's much appreciated._

**_Revised last on 19/02/2020_**


	9. Chapter 9

_Here I am again with a new chapter. It's only been two days so you didn't have to wait too long, right? I hope you enjoy it! Thanks for all your reviews._

**Warning**: This chapter contains child abuse in both emotional and physical form as well as neglect. If you don't want to read such things, I advise against continuing.

* * *

**Chapter 9**

Harry was staring out of the window, sitting in the Hogwarts express, the steel contraption taking him back to his personal hell. He felt sick to his stomach thinking about what punishment he would probably get for daring to come home for Christmas. But he knew it was well deserved. It was his own fault. Well, his and that of his two best friends who were eying him with concern from where they sat. Harry could see their reflection in the window he was leaning his face against. His friends knew he didn't like it at the Dursleys. Hell, Ron himself had saved him from imprisonment once. But they had no clue of the darker terrors Harry still had to endure.

It would only be for a week. Not much could happen during one week. They would probably just lock him up in his room and pay him no attention.

"Harry. We're so sorry," Hermione said once more.

"It's okay, Hermione," Harry retorted, trying his best to stop looking so depressed. "It was my decision. No one forced me to take the blame."

"Will you be alright, mate?" Ron asked worriedly.

"Of course, Ron. It's only for a week. I can take a bit of yelling. It's nothing Snape won't do himself," Harry cringed at the self-inflicted memory of an angry Snape. Maybe it was for the better if he left the place for a week. But Hermione seemed to have noticed Harry's fake smile drop when he mentioned Snape.

"He'll get over it, Harry," She comforted. "Being the adult, I'm sure he won't hold grudges. That would be highly unprofessional."

Harry chuckled coldly at Hermione's naïve perspective. But he nodded in agreement, deciding against an argument. He wanted him and his friends to part on good terms.

* * *

When Harry got off the train, dragging his nearly empty trunk behind him, he saw uncle Vernon standing there already, a purple face signifying that he was already angry. Harry waved his goodbyes to his friends and got to his uncle as fast as he could. He said nothing as they walked back to the car. Harry lifted his trunk into the car and climbed into the backseat himself. When the car doors were closed and locked, Vernon turned around and sneered at Harry maliciously.

"How dare your school send you back for the holidays, boy?" he growled. Harry was reminded of the snake version of Vernon in his nightmares.

"This is supposed to be a time for family and now we're stuck with a freak like you!" It stung, but Harry would never admit it. He hated being where he was obviously not wanted. He hated being part of a family that would be happy to drop him if they could. He was sure that they would dance on Harry's grave should Voldemort ever be able to kill him. And even though he wasn't fond of the Dursleys at all, he just longed to be a part of a family. Thinking over his musings, Harry just sighed, which Vernon seemed to take as a sign of contempt.

"Getting cocky, are you boy?!" Vernon yelled. "Happy that you're ruining our Christmas are you? Happy that I have to drive through this blizzard –" It was just snowing a little bit, " And happy that I have to spend hours in traffic for you." There was really hardly a car in sight.  
"Mark my words boy, when you get home, I will make sure that attitude leaves you again! It is that school. It makes you think you're something other than the freak you are."

Harry felt anger boil up inside him. He gritted his teeth so he wouldn't say something. He couldn't.

"You probably messed up, didn't you boy?" Vernon suddenly asked a bit quieter. Harry couldn't shield the surprise on his face which Vernon saw, looking through his rear-view mirror.

"That's it, isn't it? You messed up, as you always do, and now your school doesn't want you there any more than required, just like us." Vernon filled the car with his bellowing laugh and Harry's heart with hate.

"It's not like that!" Harry shouted, glaring at Vernon, via the mirror. But his uncle had a triumphant smile on his face that would not dissipate.

"They're starting to see you for what you really are, aren't they?" He continued, not letting up. "A useless freak who got his parents blown up." Harry covered his ears with his hands, trying his best to block out the nasty sound that was Vernon's voice. But he could still hear the cruel laughter he emitted. He shut his eyes tight and tried to control his breathing. He was just so angry! How dared his uncle say those things. Were they true? Why did he have to go back to the Dursleys? He hated it there!

He suddenly felt the car swerve and opened his eyes and ears in time to see glass shatter. Vernon had not been in an accident, no. But the back window had shattered seemingly of its own accord.

"Boy!" shouted Vernon, his cruel smile gone and his purple face back. He stopped the car and turned to look at Harry who was scratched minorly because of some of the glass. Harry stared at his uncle in complete shock. Now he was in for it.

"You broke my window!" Vernon attempted to swat at Harry but it was hard to manoeuvre his fat arm from his position, with Harry sitting behind him. "Come here," he spat. But Harry refused. Eventually, Vernon gave up and continued driving. The cold wind was freezing Harry while he sat in the shards of glass strewn all around him. '_Thanks for nothing, accidental magic,'_ He thought.

The rest of the car ride was spent in silence but Harry could make out Vernon's angry breathing and muttering. He shivered and wasn't sure if it was because of the cold, penetrating his thin, worn-out clothes, or if it was because he knew what was coming.

When Vernon pulled into the driveway, Harry jumped out immediately, grabbing his trunk and trying to make it to the door, to his room. Stupid thinking, since he had no key.

"Where do you think you're going?" Vernon grumbled, fumbling with his keys, hands trembling with anger. Harry knew that his uncle could not exactly lash out yet out of fear that the neighbours would see. That's why he hesitated in the doorway when the door had finally opened.

"Get inside," a low voice growled behind him and Harry dared not disobey. The door was slammed shut and Petunia came rushing into the hallway, her face turning sour when she saw Harry.

"What happened?" She asked in her trademark shrill voice, seeing Vernon's angry face and Harry's scratched skin.

"The damn _freak_ shattered my car window!" Vernon exclaimed, grabbing Harry by the scruff of his neck when he tried to rush upstairs. Petunia covered her mouth with her hands in horror.

"Already making trouble? Before even setting foot in the house?" Years before, Harry would have tried to explain. He would have tried to make the Dursleys understand that he didn't do those things on purpose and that it was only because he was angry but he knew that was of no use. They wouldn't listen and it would only make his punishment worse.

"I'm sorry, uncle Vernon," Harry tried. But Vernon merely glared at the boy before slapping him hard in the face. Harry fell to the floor because of the impact and momentum behind the blow, immediately cupping his now sore cheek.

"Don't try to get out of this, boy," Vernon sneered. "If you think you'll get away with this with nothing but an apology, you're sadly mistaken. DUDLEY! GET MY BELT!"

Harry freaked out and tried to get away from his uncle but the man grabbed his shirt. The belt? This was not a common occurrence and to already be subjected to it while he had just gotten here… The Dursleys must be really upset with having Harry here.

Vernon dragged Harry into the living room where a beautiful Christmas tree was set up. Blue and silver ornaments filled the entire tree. There were stars, reindeer, birds, and all kinds of other shapes you could imagine with a large triumphant star at the very top of the tree. Warm white lights were strewn all across the tree and looked inviting to anyone who saw them. There was an enormous multitude of presents spread around the base of the tree, wrapped in neat, sparkly paper and decorated with the most garish, colourful ribbons once could find. Vernon dragged Harry in front of it, to get out of the hallway, and ripped off his shirt. Petunia quickly withdrew to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of eggnog. By then, Dudley had come rushing down the stairs with his father's belt, glee on his fat, pig-like face.

"Please, uncle Vernon," Harry pleaded once more, expecting the pain but not knowing what he could do about it. But his pleas fell on deaf ears as Vernon brought his belt down on Harry's back with a viciously hard swing. Harry cried out as he came toppling down onto the ground. After a few more lashes, crackling through the air as they hit Harry's back, Dudley seemed to be bored because his smile disappeared and so did he, up to his room. Petunia was emerging from the kitchen, her glass in her hand. Harry looked up at her just in time to see her horror-stricken face.

"Vernon, stop!" she screeched. Harry, pain coursing through his body, looked up at his aunt who seemed absolutely appalled. Could it be possible? Did she care about him? She stopped Vernon. Maybe she couldn't bear to see Harry hurt like this. That must've meant that she felt something for her nephew after all. A small smile tugged at the edge of Harry's lips as Petunia rushed towards him. Vernon seemed at a loss for words for a moment but Petunia ran right past Harry and kneeled next to the many presents.

"You're getting blood on them." She cried. Harry's smile disappeared, his disappointment settling in like a blow to the stomach that was worse than any of the lashes had been so far. He closed his eyes, reprimanding himself in silence. _Stupid, stupid, stupid! When will you learn? You are not loved_. Tears formed in his eyes that he refused to let fall.

"I will go upstairs," Vernon grumbled, seemingly a little embarrassed with ruining Petunia's perfect setup. He grabbed Harry's upper arm with one meaty hand and held on so tightly that his knuckles went white. Harry groaned but didn't have any more fight left in him than that. Vernon started walking, dragging Harry behind him as if he were a rag doll. Harry tried scrambling to his feet and managed to just in time to be able to scale the stairs behind his uncle. The heartless man threw Harry into the smallest bedroom and watched silently as the boy clambered to his feet again.

"For breaking the car window, you do not get dinner," he growled and shut the door behind him. Harry heard all of the locks click in place and sighed to himself when he realized that his trunk still lay downstairs. So much for his potions. He could really have used one today.

* * *

The second day started off a bit better than the first day had ended. It was Petunia who had unlocked his bedroom door.

"Get started, boy," She ordered. "You have a whole list of chores to do. We can't have you laze about after you already caused so much damage." Harry groaned and got out of his bed slowly in order to not jar his fresh wounds too much.

"Hurry up. Don't make me get Vernon"

So Harry tried his best to ignore the pain and headed downstairs to get started on breakfast. While he was scrambling the eggs and searing the bacon, he couldn't stop his stomach from growling. Dudley apparently found this to be very amusing since he giggled every time it happened. And every time Dudley giggled, Petunia would praise him for his excellent sense of humour. It started to get tedious, though, and when Harry finally served the food, he threw a glare at his cousin who just rolled his eyes at him. Harry followed up by doing the dishes in the hopes that if he lingered, he might be able to get the leftover scraps but alas. No food whatsoever remained on the plates and when Petunia saw Harry's longing look she simply said, "Well, we didn't exactly prepare for having a freeloader in our home this week."

"Go shovel some snow, boy," Vernon said while reading his newspaper. Uncle Vernon had the week off because of the holidays so he would most likely be home all day every day. This was not something Harry looked forward to. Fearful that he might get beaten some more, he grabbed the shovel and went outside in the cold, to clear the copious amounts of snow that had apparently fallen overnight. He wore nothing but a long pair of trousers and a shirt and sweater that had once belonged to Dudley. His shoes weren't exactly waterproof and soon his socks were wet and squishy. It took him hours to shovel the driveway and while he was at it, he saw parents, sledging with their children, or having snowball fights. He saw two brothers, making a snowman in the cold, their mother bringing out hot chocolate for them to enjoy. He saw families, love and kindness. And it made him feel lonely and heartbroken. Done with the driveway, he set his shovel aside and tried to go back inside, only to find the door locked.

"You have got to be kidding me," He grumbled under his breath, little clouds forming in the air as he spoke. He knocked on the door. No response. He rang the bell. No response. He waited, and he waited. And then he waited some more. And when he couldn't wait any longer he started ringing the doorbell and kept on ringing it. It took a long time for anyone to respond. He was ringing that bell continuously for what must have been at least fifteen minutes when the door finally opened. A purple-faced Vernon emerged to greet him.

"I was locked out," Said Harry matter of factly.

"That's because we don't want you here," Vernon replied. Taken aback, Harry just stared at his uncle, not sure what was expected of him but eventually, Vernon stepped aside and grumbled as Harry entered.

"That was a little harsh, don't you think?" Harry blurted out when the door was shut behind him. He immediately scolded himself for saying something. He was just so upset. Sure enough, it earned him another backhand from Vernon. This time, Harry had steeled himself for the blow and had only wobbled slightly instead of crashing onto the ground. Improvement!

"Shut your mouth, boy," was Vernon's harsh reply. A still shivering Harry decided to not aggravate his uncle even more, grabbed his trunk and headed to his room again. When he had come down for dinner again that same day, Vernon had told him that there was no budget to _feed the freak_ this week, so he would just have to grin and bear going hungry. After all, what was he expecting? That they take food out of their own son's mouth to feed someone else's? Laughable and out of the question. Harry had simply sighed and went back up to his room but not before glancing at the three Christmas stockings that hung by the chimney. One for each of the Durselys but none for the Potter. The only comfort Harry could find that evening, was in the Murtlap essence he had applied to his still aching wounds, and in the meagre warmth of this thin blanket after having spent practically the entire day outside.

* * *

Harry awoke to the sounds of an annoying sort of tapping on his window. He turned over groggily, trying to shield his ears with his pillow but the tapping wouldn't stop. When he finally opened his eyes to check out what the commotion was all about he saw a gathering of owls clustered by his window. Suddenly, Harry wasn't tired anymore. He jumped out of his bed, happy as an 8-year-old child on Christmas morning – which it was – to receive his presents.

He opened the window and allowed the parliament of owls to invade his room. Harry recognised Pigwidgeon but didn't recognize the other owls. As soon as they delivered their packages, they looked at Harry expectantly. But he held out his hands to signify that he had nothing.

"Can't even feed myself, buddies," he apologized. One of the owls hooted loudly in discontent before all three of them flew out of the window again. Harry could only hope that none of the Dursleys had heard the noise. From Ron, it would seem he had received a bulging bag of dungbombs as well as a box of Bertie's Every Flavour Beans. Well alright then. Harry sat the sack aside, smiling to himself while shaking his head. Ron's mother had clearly added another one of her trademark sweaters to his package. From Sirius Black, he had gotten a fancy looking magical penknife, with a note attached that it could open any lock and untie any knot. That could come in handy but really, Harry was just happy to have gotten anything from his godfather. A smile tugged at his lips. From Hermione, he had gotten the book _Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland_.

Harry scratched his neck awkwardly. It was a strange feeling to be so grateful to people he couldn't even say anything to right now. At least they had all made his crummy Christmas somewhat better. He had just finished storing all of his gifts into his trunk when his door barged open.

"Downstairs, now!" His aunt yelled at him with a shrill voice. Harry did not disobey and scurried as rapidly as his feet could carry him. Downstairs, he saw the two male Dursleys sitting in the living room, the larger of the two sitting on the couch and the smaller yet not so small one on the ground, eagerly looking at his gifts.

"Get started on a proper Christmas breakfast," Petunia sneered as she steered Harry into the kitchen while she went to join her family. Harry saw that Petunia had made a list of what she expected to be on the table soon. Harry glanced over it and sighed. It was a tall order, but nothing he hadn't done before. While listening to Dudley opening his presents, either squealing in delight or voicing his disapproval, Harry went on to make blueberry pancakes, crumpets, Irish potato cakes with smoked salmon, Dutch baby pancakes with roasted plums, Black pudding, poached egg and soldiers, smoked salmon toast and last but not least Christmas kedgeree breakfast tarts.

It took him ages to prepare all the food but the Dursleys didn't seem to mind all that much. They were having too much fun opening their presents, a nice cosy fire roaring in the fireplace. Harry had just sneaked a peek when he saw Petunia thanking Vernon profusely for a necklace she got, giving him a loving kiss which he accepted gladly, grinning from ear to ear, possibly because of the eggnog. Dudley caught him staring and shot him a mean sort of grin that shook Harry from his daze. While he was busy placing the last of the many items on the table, he felt his stomach rumble in loud protest. Maybe he could just sneak one of the breakfast tarts. Yes, he would try that. He took one of the tarts and shoved it into his pocket real quick. But when he looked up, he saw that Dudley was staring at him. For a few seconds, they locked gazes but then, Harry started sprinting upstairs, hearing Dudley's outraged screams beneath him.

"Dad! Harry stole a tart!" he yelled.

Harry just closed his door, sat in a corner, and stuffed the tart in his mouth, chewing as fast as he could. It didn't take long before Vernon had reached his room, opened the door and found Harry with crumbs on his face, still chewing. It was clear as day that the man was furious indeed. He grabbed Harry by his collar. The boy tried to protest, clawed at his bed, the worn-down desk, at his doorway. Anything to try and get a grip on, so he wouldn't be dragged to wherever his uncle was taking him. But he was too weak. Without his magic, he was nothing. When they reached the stairs, Vernon lifted Harry up by the collar of his shirt to meet his glaring eyes and waited for a second, as if he was considering something. Harry threw a panicked look over his shoulder, the staircase looming behind him, his feet dangling in the air.

"Please," he muttered. And as if that was his signal, Vernon threw Harry down the stairs.

It was a strange sensation Harry felt as he lay there, staring up to see his uncle come down the stairs in a calm, relaxed manner. He didn't seem to be feeling any pain. His emotions seemed to be gone as well. His thoughts also seemed to be left behind. He was vaguely aware of where he was and what had just happened but only barely. It was almost pleasant. But before Vernon had reached the final step, all the pain, emotions, thoughts and realizations had rushed to catch up to Harry and had reached him in one massive swoop. And it was agony.

Harry screamed and howled. His eyes almost rolled back because of the pain. His entire body was in anguish but his left arm was even more so. When he glanced at it, he saw that his hand was in a weird angle. Harry tried to move and was relieved to find his legs to still be working but that didn't help at all with the pain. He felt the back of his head with his good hand and saw the blood sticking to it. Vernon had reached the boy and seemed at a loss. Petunia and Dudley had also come to check out the commotion. Petunia had slapped her hands in front of her mouth.

"Oh, Vernon what did you do?" She asked in her shrill voice, "He has to go back to school in half a week. What will they say?"

"He fell down the stairs," Vernon replied smoothly. All of the anger seemed to have left his voice. "Didn't you, boy?" Where there was usually a threat behind the words, there was none this time. But Harry nodded vigorously, all the same, trying to evade any more punishment.

"Good," replied Vernon. "Now let's get that hand in the right angle, shall we?"

"Vernon, I really don't think – "

"Petunia, they will notice if I don't."

"Do it, Dad, do it!"

"Please… don't," Harry pleaded finally. Only Petunia glanced over at him for just a second before continuing the discussion between themselves.

"Look, I force it in the right angle now, and he'll just fix it with – well you know – when he's back in that freak school of his."

Petunia sighed in defeat.

"You know best, Vernon," She said. "Come on Duddykins, let's open the big present now." And the two of them hurried away, back into the living room, leaving Harry in the maniacal care of his uncle.

"You brought this on yourself, you know," He mumbled. "Now hold still."

Tears were streaming down Harry's face both because of the pain and because of the anticipation. Vernon did not count down or indicate otherwise that he would do what he was going to do. He grabbed Harry's broken hand and yanked at it hard. Harry didn't know if he had screamed. All he remembered was his world going black.

* * *

_Well that was intense, wasn't it? I liked writing this chapter a lot. It just left my fingers so easily. I would love all of your input, wishes and general ideas. I hope to hear from you all soon! Then I will return the favour._

**_Last revised on 02/03/2020_**


	10. Chapter 10

_Hi guys! Here I am again with yet another update and I'm not even close to where I want to be yet. I feel like this can go on for at least another 10 chapters but who knows._

_I hope you'll enjoy it!_

* * *

**chapter 10**

For the rest of the week, the Dursleys were surprisingly merciful to Harry. He was allowed bedrest in the smallest bedroom. Harry felt that Vernon had actually been surprised with what he had done, himself. It was not as if beatings weren't a common occurrence in the Dursley household but never had Vernon come so close to perhaps fatally injuring his nephew. They hadn't seemed too bothered to go on celebrating Christmas, though. Harry had heard the clattering of plates and silverware right after he had awoken, finding himself back in his bed. His family had no doubt been eating the small feast he had prepared. At least the tart he had snuck had tasted amazing. When he heard the loud sound effects of some sort of electronic toy coming from downstairs, Harry tried to move but regretted doing so immediately. Not only was his left hand remarkably soar, as was to be expected, but he also felt pain emanating from his back, shoulders and head. He groaned at the same time he heard loud laughter erupt from downstairs, this time the source clearly his uncle. At least he had had the decency to deposit Harry back onto his bed before going back to celebrate.

The Dursleys did leave him alone and while that was mostly positive, it did also have its negative connotations. After all, they did not seem to be in a mood to feed him at all. Nobody bothered to wish him a happy Christmas, and while he hadn't really expected it, if he was honest to himself, his family hadn't given him a Christmas present either. The only time he ever saw any relative of his during the rest of that miserable week, it had been his uncle. He would peek his head inside of Harry's room maybe once per day, possibly to check if his nephew was still alive. He never lingered for more than a few seconds and would close the door again with a slam. The locks weren't used anymore. Perhaps the Dursleys understood that Harry couldn't really move all that much anyway, so they simply didn't bother.

The morning of Harry's return to Hogwarts, he decided that he at least wanted to make himself presentable. He got out of his bed for the first time since that awful Wednesday morning and groaned at the pain that still shot through his extremities. When he made his legs carry his weight, they responded with a wobbly, weak kind of feeling but Harry forced them to move anyways. He dragged himself into the bathroom and undressed. He turned on the water and waited for it to become warm. In the meantime, he managed to check his appearance in the mirror. And he looked more awful then he had ever remembered himself to be.

The hand that was obviously broken had turned a deep, almost black colour at his wrist. The lower arm connected to that wrist was also discoloured with a nice deep purple shade. The right side of his lower body was sporting a rather large blot of green and purple which seemed to lead to his back. When he turned around and peered over his shoulder, he could see that there were blotches of many shades spread across his shoulder blades as if they formed a depiction of horribly disfigured wings, drawn by an artist who had much to learn. More bruises formed on his back in the vicinity of his hips though those bruises seemed to be rather mild, compared to the rest. The right side of his knee was again a shade of purple he had rather not seen at all but was very much present all over his body nonetheless. At least his face was untouched. All he would have to do was hide his body and no one would know. Wouldn't it be better if he _did_ tell someone, though? Harry sighed deeply and got in the shower. The warm water felt very nice on his aching body. He washed himself as thoroughly as the bruises would allow him, the shampoo in his hair stinging the still open lashes on his back as it was rinsed out. At least he wouldn't smell as if he had been locked in his room for a week.

When he got out of the shower, dressed in fresh clothes, his Uncle stood in the hallway eyeing him.

"I guess it's time to bring you back to that freak school of yours," He growled, not commenting on the unapproved shower Harry had just taken. He must have realized that it was in both their interests for Harry to not go back to school smelling of neglect.

"Yes please, Uncle Vernon," Harry replied as submissively as he could, eyes lowered to the ground.

His uncle grunted in response, "Now listen closely, boy. You are not to tell anyone of what happened here okay? It was an accident."

Harry looked up in surprise, a flash of indignation in his eyes.

"An accident?" he repeated incredulously. "You have got to be –"

"Shut your mouth boy!" Vernon interrupted, raising a large hand in the air menacingly. Harry flinched and raised his arms in the air to protect himself but the blow never came.

"Surely, you are aware that this is the only place you can return to over the summer," Vernon continued, threats obvious in his voice. "No one else wants you so come back you will. So help me God, if you dare tell anyone… you will be too indisposed to go back to that institution you call a school next year."

Harry gaped at him for a few seconds, as if trying to assess the truth of his uncle's words. Defeat soon overtook him.

"Yes, uncle Vernon."

"Good, now go pack. I want to beat traffic."

* * *

During the train ride back to Hogwarts, Harry was exceptionally quiet. Sure, he was not supposed to let anyone know but he was far too exhausted and in too much agony to pretend that he was alright. Ron and Hermione had both tried prodding a couple of times to see what was wrong but Harry had ignored them, simply telling them that he was tired, and pretended to be asleep to keep them from bothering him.

He could hear them whispering quietly to each other, no doubt about him, but soon sleep carried him away into a slumber that was thankfully not interrupted by a nightmare of some kind.

Finally, Hermione shook him awake. Harry had to grit his teeth to ignore the pain that surged through his body because of her rough handling but no one seemed to notice.

"We're almost there, Harry," Hermione explained. "Time to put on your robes."

"Yeah, wouldn't want to be late to the feast!" Ron said happily, no doubt trying to get Harry to cheer up. But even though he knew he had to eat something and that he should feel as if he was starving, he had absolutely no appetite. He wasn't even sure if he could get pumpkin juice to go down and stay down. Just the thought of pumpkin pie made him sick.

But he listened, and put on his robe, not saying much of anything. He noticed how Hermione and Ron had exchanged a look but Harry didn't pay it any attention.

In the great hall, Ron had scooped large quantities of potatoes, meats, gravy, and many other things onto his plate, while Hermione ate a tad more civilized. When she noticed Harry wasn't eating anything and was instead playing with the penknife he had gotten from Sirius, she scooped some vegetables and potatoes onto his plate.

"Harry, you have to eat something," Hermione said. "You look so pale." But Harry just smiled at her.

"I had a big brunch, Hermione," He replied. "I simply couldn't eat anymore."

Hermione eyed him critically but decided to drop the issue.

Harry soon had enough of the looks Hermione and now also Ron were giving him so he excused himself.

"I'm tired. Is it okay if I go to sleep?" he asked. His friends had nodded hesitantly and left him to go back to the Gryffindor tower while Ron scooped up his third serving.

And that had truly been Harry's plan. He wanted to go to his bed and sleep off his injuries some more. He had no way imagined things to go the way they went next. While walking, playing with the penknife, he was suddenly ambushed by Peeves, who cackled loudly as Harry fell backwards and went into a different corridor. When Harry had recovered from the sudden attack, he noticed that his penknife was gone. Furious, he chased Peeves down the corridor he had just taken. Following the obnoxious hollering of the poltergeist was no problem in and of itself but the ghost had the tendency to float through walls, making it hard for Harry to catch up. Not to mention that Harry's injuries ached terribly with every step he took. If it had been any other item, he probably would have allowed Peeves to have it. But Sirus had given him the penknife. And he wanted it back.

When he finally noticed that he had chased Peeves all the way down into the dungeons, he was sure that he had been in there for a long time already. Hell, he even recognised where he was. He was almost near Snape's office. Harry groaned inwardly as he kept running. He didn't know how much longer he could do this. His legs felt as if they were on fire and his back was aching horribly because of the strain the running put on it.

Peeves rounded a corner.

"Hey, what do you think you're – "

CRASH, CLANG, THUD

Harry rounded the corner to see Peeves floating in place above a wreckage he most certainly had caused. A large cabinet lay on its side and from beneath it, two legs could be seen. Harry looked at Peeves in horror. The poltergeist just cackled loudly and threw Harry's possession to the ground while he disappeared into the ceiling. Harry pocketed the pen knife while he kneeled next to the unconscious body of… Draco Malfoy? At least, that's what he thought. It was hard to make out a face as it was turned towards the cabinet but Harry recognised a green Slytherin scarf and short platinum blonde hair. Said hair was turning red at an alarming pace, however.

"Malfoy, can you hear me?" Harry asked. No response. The Slytherin must have been unconscious. That, or he was too proud – even when badly injured – to talk to Harry. But Harry shook that ridiculous notion out of his head.

"Wingardium Leviosa," he droned confidently. Sure enough, the cabinet was lifted into the air. Harry set it down gently and knelt back besides what he now knew for sure was Draco Malfoy. Harry winced when he saw the amount of blood the boy was losing from a large gash across his skull.

"HELP!" he shouted, as he applied pressure to the wound with his good hand. But no one came. Most people were undoubtedly still at the feast. Harry looked around in despair. The hospital wing was so far away. But wait, there was one option. Snape's office. No doubt the man had a variety of potions that could assist Harry in at least getting Draco stabilized.

Harry hooked his left elbow underneath Draco's shoulder while keeping his right hand on Draco's wound. His left wrist was dangling oddly because of its broken state and Harry had to do his best to fight through the pain. He dragged Draco towards the door to the best of his abilities and opened it. He hadn't bothered knocking. Snape would surely forgive his intrusion when it came to one of his precious Slytherins.

"Professor!" Harry cried out. But it would appear that Snape was not even there. Harry grabbed a clean cloth that he haphazardly bound around Draco's head and rushed off to Snape's cabinet, trying to find something of use.

* * *

Severus Snape was standing in the hallway that would bring him back to the bliss that was his personal chambers. He had longed to retire early after all the ruckus the students had brought back with them after the holidays but he had been stopped in his tracks by one of the Weasley children as well as Granger.

They had seemed to want to tell him something but as they took in his, no doubt, stern facial features and imposing body language, their voices seemed to have left their bodies altogether. Arms crossed, Snape started rapping his fingers impatiently.

"You may assume that I enjoy dawdling in the hallways but I assure you that I do not. I suggest that you say to me exactly what it is you wanted to say within the next five seconds. If not, I will presume the matter is of no importance and I shall take my leave," he drawled.

"It was us!" Hermione suddenly confessed. Snape raised an eyebrow at her outburst. Another confession by one of the golden trio? And that in the span of two weeks.

"And what exactly is it that you are confessing to, Ms Granger?" Snape droned. "Did you perhaps poison all the merfolk?"

The Weasley did not like that comment and glared immaturely at Snape. But before he could take points for his insolence, Granger continued.

"It was the three of us that were working on the Bubonic Draught, Professor," She said. Snape was somewhat bewildered but maintained his stoic expression.

"Is that so?" he replied silkily.

"It wasn't even Harry that made the mistake, sir. It was me." Now, Granger looked at the floor.

"He said he would take the fault. That there was no point in the three of us getting punished. But, sir – " she met Snape's gaze once more, desperation in her eyes. "He is so distraught because of having offended you, sir. He's so unhappy. He hasn't even eaten anything this evening! Please, please stop being so mad at him. It was me. And I will gladly take Veritaserum if you don't believe me."

The Weasley kid had been awfully quiet during this rant but when Snape glared at him he quickly added to the confession.

"I was there too. It was probably because I was distracting Hermione that she made a mistake." He was mumbling but Snape had understood. His gaze had turned very dark indeed and he had opened his mouth to no doubt start firing a long lecture about their insolence, disrespect, irresponsibility and general stupidity when he felt one of the potion vials in his pocket vibrate by means of a silent alarm. Someone had broken into his office.

"I will deal with you later. Make sure of that," He hissed at the two Gryffindors in front of him. With a swish of his cloak, he turned around and stepped hastily, with long strides in the direction of his office.

* * *

Harry was peering through the cabinet to see if he could find something else. He had a blood thickening potion in his hand that would stop the bleeding or at least slow it down. He had also grabbed a blood replenisher which he was sure Malfoy would need as well. Lastly, he grabbed some dittany from the ingredients cabinet and rushed back to Malfoy, forgetting his own aching body for the moment.

He painfully knelt behind Malfoy and propped him up in such a way that the blonde leaned against Harry. He uncorked the blood clotting potion first. No point in replenishing the blood if it was just going to flow out again. He had just poured the potion down the conniving Slytherin's throat when –

"Potter!"

Harry looked up sharply at the sound of his name to see Snape standing in his own doorway, the look of horror on his face not going unnoticed by the raven-haired teen. Harry set down the empty vial he still had in his hand and took the blood replenishing potion next, uncorking it with much difficulty, courtesy of his broken hand.

"Professor, please help me," Harry pleaded as he emptied the potion down Malfoy's throat.

"What are you doing, Potter?" Snape asked, worry in his voice. "What happened?"

"Peeves knocked down a cabinet," Harry answered quickly.

Snape knelt down, taking in the scene before him. Harry imagined it must have looked horrible to the professor. Snape removed the cloth that Harry had tied around Malfoy's head to inspect the wound and Harry was glad to see that it had stopped bleeding as profusely, allowing himself a sigh of relief.

He lowered Malfoy to the ground again and picked himself up, a tad embarrassed about having been found with a Slytherin in his lap.

"What have you given him?" Snape asked, his tone all business laced with a sense of urgency.

"First a blood clotting potion and immediately after a blood replenishing potion, sir," Harry replied dutifully. Snape nodded and went over Malfoy's head with his wand, which was glowing in a bright blue light.

"No fractures. A mild concussion." He mumbled to himself. It was at that moment a groan escaped from the injured Slytherin's mouth. As soon as he blinked his eyes open, Harry thrust the dittany at him.

"Chew on this, Malfoy," he said. "It will help."

Harry noticed that both Snape and Malfoy were staring at him as if he had gone insane. Confused and suddenly in doubt, he dropped the hand holding the dittany. Wasn't that what dittany was for? Yes, once could apply it directly to the wound but in case of head trauma, it was better to ingest the plant. Or did he remember that incorrectly? But after a few seconds, Snape grabbed it from him with a bit more force than Harry appreciated and shoved it into Malfoy's mouth.

"Chew, Draco," Snape said and this time Malfoy listened. When Malfoy's wound started to close, Harry felt relief wash over him, accompanied by drowsiness and the returning sensation of pain. He watched the pair of Slytherins for a few more seconds, not wanting to disturb them before turning on his heel and attempting to walk back out of the dungeons.

"Wait right there, Mr Potter," Snape stopped him. "I am taking Mr Malfoy to the medical wing. In the meantime I expect you to sit here and wait for me." Not waiting for a reply, Snape hoisted Malfoy to his feet, supporting him with an arm around his waist. They walked out of the office as Harry started taking a good look around him. There was blood everywhere. There was a clear trail where Harry had dragged Malfoy inside. There was also a large puddle on the carpet where he had left Malfoy. Harry cringed at it, knowing how hard that would be to clean up. There were bloody handprints everywhere as well, courtesy of Harry snooping through the cabinets. Harry looked at his right hand that was still smeared with Malfoys blood and shuddered. He hoped Snape would believe him and that the dark Potions Master would not instead think that Harry had tried to kill Malfoy. For all he knew, that was exactly what the blond would try to have him believe.

Harry felt weak and exhausted. Maybe he should have tried to eat something for dinner anyway, no matter how queasy he felt. Staring at his bloody hand was making him drowsy. It didn't take long before Harry closed his eyes.

"Potter!" Harry startled and almost fell out of his seat. He looked over his shoulder to see Snape standing there, glaring at the boy. The two regarded each other for a while before Snape spoke again.

"You have made quite a mess in my office, Potter."

"My apologies that I made the Malfoy heir bleed all over your precious carpet, _sir,_" Harry bit back sardonically, not in the mood to be villainized by Snape. The man simply raised an eyebrow in response and took a seat at his desk, placing his fingertips against each other, his elbows resting on the dark mahogany.

"Mr Malfoy has assured me that it was indeed Peeves that assaulted him," Snape said after a few seconds, mercifully ignoring Harry's sarcastic comment. "It would appear that the quick thinking on your part might have saved his life."

Harry didn't know what to say to that so he just nodded.

"It is especially fortuitous that you were able to recognize the necessary potions just by looking at them, seeing as I have not yet been able to label them," Snape continued.

Harry hadn't even noticed that he had done that. "Yes, I suppose so," he replied.

"It would also appear that you are quite knowledgable about the ingredients and their base workings."

"Yes, sir," Harry admitted cautiously. What was happening? Was Snape complimenting Harry? Was he doing so to kick Harry down again? What was his plan?

"Had this event occurred at the start of the year, you might have very well killed Mr Malfoy," Snape drawled.

Harry glared at him for those words. "I probably wouldn't have attempted what I have back then, sir," He replied swiftly.

"Indeed."

They sat in silence for a couple of seconds before Snape spoke again.

"I spoke to your friends earlier," His voice was soft but betrayed no emotion. Harry's heart skipped a beat, though, and he was sure that worry was clear on his face.

"They – well mostly Ms Granger – told me what has truly transpired with that accursed Bubonic draught."

"They're just covering up for me," Harry was quick to reply but Snape held out his hand to stop him.

"I am sure your Gryffindor stupidity would prefer I change nothing and place the blame wholly on you, but Ms Granger proposed I use veritaserum to test her honesty. Would you agree to allow the same?"

Harry's gaze darkened as he leaned back in his seat, ignoring the pain he felt doing so.

"No," he spoke through gritted teeth.

"I thought not. I will once again have a word with your head of house, Mr Potter. I am sure she will not be delighted to see me once more in regards to her golden trio."

"Yeah, because _otherwise_, she is _so_ thrilled to see you," Harry retorted.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Mr Potter," Snape replied coolly. "Now get back to your dormitory before it's past curfew. While deducting points from your house is something I quite enjoy at times, I feel like you will lose many more courtesy of Miss Granger and Mr Weasley as it stands."

When Harry placed his hands on either armrest of his chair to get up, he winced visibly at the pain that suddenly shot through his left wrist. Snape was up in an instant and had grabbed Harry's left arm before he could turn away.

"What is this?" Snape hissed, lowering Harry's sleeve to unveil the swollen, bruised wrist.

"It happened earlier," Harry said, thinking quickly. "When I tried to move the cabinet, I lost focus and I hurt my arm." Snape was beginning to examine Harry's hand, inspecting the wrist almost tenderly. When Harry yelped at a sudden movement, Snape stopped prodding.

"It is clearly broken," He diagnosed. "You would best be off to the medical wing, Mr Potter."

Harry sighed, not wanting to go but happy that Snape had believed his ruse. He would get the bones mended and nothing else would happen. But before Harry had exited Snape's office, he called him back one last time.

"Oh, and Mr Potter. If you feel well enough by Monday, I will be able to open up the practice lab one hour later than usual as I have some business to attend to."

Harry blinked back at him in silence before replying with a big grin plastered on his face.

"Yes, sir!"

* * *

_Once again I had several goals I wanted to meet this chapter but I wasn't entirely sure how to meet them. I'm quite happy with what I ended up with though._

_What do you guys think? Happy with how it went or no? Where do you think this will go?_

**_Last revised on 02/03/2020_**


	11. Chapter 11

_Yay, chapter 11 is up! You didn't have to wait that long, right? Sorry, I also had to bake a cake today so I was out of time. I want to thank all those lovely people that sent me reviews. I'm really happy to see how invested some people are in this story. It really motivates me to keep going._

* * *

**Chapter 11**

Snape was no fool. Even if he was no mediwizard, he was very much aware of bruising and how it worked. For a dark bruise like the one that had appeared on Potter's arm to form it would need at least a couple of days. There was no way for it to have formed in the passing of what could have been an hour tops, broken or not.

As Snape walked around his office, glancing at the many oddities that lined his shelves - occasionally picking something up only to place it back on the shelf – his mind wandered to a certain Gryffindor. So he had not been entirely at fault for the house-elf disaster that had him up for many sleepless nights. How very Gryffindor of him it had been to take all the blame. What an impudent boy, not realizing how close he had come to being expelled.

As for that broken wrist; it must have happened somewhere during the Christmas holidays. They had only been back for a day after all. An evening actually. Snape kept pacing his office, black robes billowing menacingly behind him. For Potter to have kept such an injury hidden, it must have been because of some sort of mischief he got himself into. That, or he was too proud to admit to his injuries. It mattered not. Snape would find out sooner rather than later.

Opening his door with a dramatic swish of his wand, he stalked out of his office and marched straight to McGonagall's office. Now, to make sure the other two members of the golden trio got punished.

* * *

Harry had listened to Snape and had gone straight to the medical wing. Of course he had already been found out! You can't exactly hide a broken bone, can you? Snape seemed to have believed his excuse and to top it all off, he seemed to have forgiven Harry for his failed experiment. Harry couldn't be happier. It was probably because he had saved Snape's precious Slytherin poster boy. With that thought, Harry entered the medical wing and was approached by Madame Pomfrey.

"Mr Potter, back again so soon?" she asked incredulously. "Surely, if you plan on getting yourself injured as often in the future, I fear that I will have to request some assistance."

"I'm sorry Madame Pomfrey," Harry said. "I'll try to avoid bothering you in the future."

The mediwitch rolled her eyes. "It's no bother, Potter, don't worry. Please take a seat." She gestured to an empty bed and waited for Harry to follow her orders. "Now, tell me, what have you done?"

"Professor Snape says I broke my wrist," Harry replied. He held out his left arm for her to examine.

"And how, pray tell, did you manage that?"

"Er… hit by a cabinet," Harry replied.

"Another cabinet accident?" Pomfrey replied, arching an eyebrow. She must have been referring to Malfoy. "Whatever you say, Potter. Now hold still."

The matter of healing Harry's wrist proved to be an easy one. Pomfrey simply brandished her wand, muttered a spell whilst flicking it difficultly and in mere seconds, Harry realized that his wrist was as good as new.

"Off you go now," Pomfrey said when she was done. "Back to your dorm."

"Can _I_ go, as well?" A familiar voice belonging to a certain blonde yelled from somewhere behind a curtain.

"Mr Malfoy, you have a concussion and you will not leave this bed. Do you understand?" Pomfrey replied sternly.

When Malfoy retorted with an annoyed groan, Harry couldn't help but grin before exiting the medical wing. Disaster avoided.

* * *

When he went back to the common room, his friends were not there. Fred and George were playing a game of exploding snap by the hearth though, so Harry approached them.

"Hey Fred, George," Harry greeted.

"No, I'm George!"

"And I'm Fred."

"Honestly, Harry-"

"Don't you know us yet?"

Harry raised an eyebrow at their horrible attempt at riming.

"Just kidding, Harry."

"You got it right the first time."

"Wanna play?"

"No thanks, Fred" Harry replied. "I was just wondering if you had seen Hermione and Ron around?"

"Oh they're in trouble," George replied, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Day one, and they already angered McGonagall."

"I can't believe they did it before we could!"

"Never even had a chance."

Harry sighed and went to sit with the twins, joining them in their game after all. What else was he going to do as long as his friends weren't back yet?

They sure took their sweet time too. By the time Fred's eyebrows were burned clean off - which was after at least half an hour - Harry's friends returned to the common room, looking absolutely appalled. When they saw Harry, though, they seemed to become glad and relieved.

"Bye Harry," said the twin that was now unmistakably Fred, as Harry got up to meet his friends.

"Play again sometime," added George. Harry threw them a boyish grin and a mocking salute which the twins copied before turning back to Ron and Hermione.

"Are you alright?" The three of them asked in unison. And tension or not, that sentence was a token that showed how in sync the three friends still were. Despite everything and despite themselves, they laughed wholeheartedly at their unintended harmony. They went to sit in a corner together. Ron had grabbed some of the candy he had left over from Christmas and scattered it across the table they were sitting at to share.

"You really didn't need to do that, guys," Harry said earnestly, reaching for a chocolate frog.

"Yes we did, Harry," Hermione replied sincerely. "We never should have allowed you to take the blame in the first place."

"She's right, mate," Ron tried saying, his mouth stuffed with different kinds of candy. "That was a terrible thing for us to do."

"That's not how real friends behave," Hermione added. "Sorry for not realizing that sooner."

Ron bowed his head in shame. Harry could not help but feel bad for them. But he was also really happy. Happy that his friends cared so much.

"What did McGonagall say?" Harry enquired.

Ron went visibly pale while Hermione shifted in her seat, clearly not used to being scolded.

"We both lost fifty points each from Gryffindor," Ron said. "It would have been more but McGonagall said that in light of how many were deducted from you, she would lessen the amount taken from us to balance things out."

"We also have to serve detention," Hermione added. "But they made sure we get those detentions on different days from each other. They thought we might enjoy them too much otherwise."

Harry nodded in understanding, feeling a bit frustrated himself.

"But Harry, listen!" Ron added, seemingly remembering something important. "McGonagall said that – how did she say it again - In er… -"

"_In light of recent events, I have decided that Mr Potter's punishment be lessened slightly,_" Hermione recited.

"What does that mean?" Harry asked expectantly.

"You get to play quidditch after all, Harry!" Ron said. "You've still got detention though."

But Harry didn't care. Detention he well deserved but he was over the moon to be allowed to play after all.

"I'm so happy," he sighed.

"Between you and me, so was McGonagall," Hermione whispered.

For the first time in a long while, the golden trio was laughing and fooling around amongst themselves in a way that Harry surely had missed. For a while, Harry was even wondering what he had been so worried about. Things with Snape seemed to be – well – normal again for now; his friends had his back as always and he was allowed to play Quidditch! He promised to himself that he would make sure to hang out with his friends more because, without them, he had nearly fallen into a black pit that he did not want to return to.

* * *

As always, the Monday that followed their first weekend at Hogwarts started off with a double potions class. But Harry didn't resent going as much. Even if Snape had gone back to being his hateful self as always, it was still a happy improvement from how angry he had been over the last couple of weeks.

Ron and Hermione did not share his sentiment though. Since Snape now knew of their involvement, he was sure to treat them more harshly.

Harry was feeling the way he imagined an old man must feel. His body ached with nearly every movement he made. His back was the worst. The gashes didn't all seem to heal properly and his flesh felt hot and sore. Nothing he couldn't handle though. The lack of sleep was also not helping. Harry had experienced another nightmare that night, his dormmates blissfully unaware thanks to his silencing charm. He had finally managed to eat properly, though. Without the extra worries causing a lack of appetite, Harry had stuffed his face in an almost Ron-like manner, much to the disapproval of Hermione who just rolled her eyes and muttered '_boys_' under her breath.

When the Gryffindors arrived to sit in the Potion's classroom, Snape, as well as the Slytherins, were already there. When Harry glanced at the bunch clad in green he noticed that one Draco Malfoy was still absent. Fine by him. The less he saw of the git, the better.

Harry had explained to his friends what had happened so to them it was no surprise either that their nemesis hadn't made it to class.

"Maybe he'll have permanent brain damage," Ron whispered. "Then we won't have to see him anymore."

"Ron!" reprimanded Hermione a tad louder than Harry thought wise. Sure enough, the potions master glanced venomously in their direction while the Gryffindors took their seats. Not that the other Gryffindors were that much quieter. When everyone was seated, Snape got up from his desk and started writing on the chalkboard. When he was done, he turned back around with a swish of his cloak and faced the class with a scowl plastered firmly on his face.

"Today you will all attempt to create a dreamless sleep potion. I say _attempt_ because I am well aware that most of you will once again fail to read the instructions I have provided you with. You will do the work by yourself today. See to it that you do not _melt_ your cauldrons." He threw an exceptionally nasty glare in Neville's direction at that last statement.

"Those who do succeed will be exempt from writing an essay on this potion. This means I will expect the majority of you to hand in an essay on this particular potion of three feet long by Wednesday.

"Begin"

Harry soon found himself among many others making a mad dash to the front in order to get the necessary ingredients. When a particularly large Slytherin pushed him aside rather roughly, Harry couldn't help but hiss at the sudden sharp pain in his flank. After throwing a glare at said Slytherin, he grabbed the last of the ingredients he needed and went back to his seat.

Glancing over the ingredients, he frowned to himself. There was a mistake on the board. It said to add wolfsbane before adding the poppy but this should be reversed. He wondered if this was a genuine mistake or it Snape was setting up a trap. Harry looked at his potions professor and saw that a smirk adorned his face.

Frowning, he turned towards Ron.

"Ron, be careful, there's – "

"No chit-chat, Mr Potter," Snape interjected loudly. "That's ten points from Gryffindor."

Harry couldn't help but glare in Snape's direction but he had already turned away, scribbling away on a piece of parchment. Harry shot Ron an apologetic look and got back to his own potion. To be sure, he opened his textbook and came to the conclusion that there was indeed an error on the board.

It was only natural that at the end of class, not many people had managed to brew the concoction correctly. Harry's was perfect and when he glanced over at Hermione's brew he perceived that she too had noticed. Ron's potion, however, was a murky green instead of purple and Harry knew that Ron must have made a lot more mistakes than simply the one on the board for it to look like that.

Soon, Snape paroled the classroom and inspected everyone's cauldron. Apparently, Blaise Zabini had also done well but besides Harry and Hermione, that was everyone who had passed Snape's test.

"You have all made it very clear to me that you do not find it necessary to open your textbooks before, during or after class." Snape proclaimed. "I would tell you that I was disappointed but that would be a lie. You performed exactly as I expected. Those who succeeded, please bottle your potion and bring it up front. From the others, I expect your essay the day after tomorrow.

"Dismissed"

Harry proudly bottled his potion and looked dreamily into the cauldron. What a waste it would be to just vanish what's left. He glanced towards the potions master who was still scribbling and when his vision was blocked by Hermione handing in her potion, he quickly filled an extra vial or two which he quickly hid in his bag. He ran to the front to hand in his potion and turned around to get out of the class as soon as he could but was stopped.

"I saw that, Mr Potter."

Harry glanced over his shoulder to see Snape staring right at him, no emotion visible on his pale face.

"Can you tell me the dangers of the dreamless sleep potion, Potter?" he asked when Harry didn't reply.

"It's addictive, sir," Harry replied immediately. Snape stared into Harry's eyes for a moment longer before turning back to his writing.

"As long as you keep that in mind."

Harry took that as his cue to leave.

His mind was reeling. Did that really just happen? Snape had seen him take the potion and hadn't even reprimanded him for it. Did he actually make poison by accident? It would make a whole lot more sense if that were the case.

Harry couldn't help but grin to himself, thinking how fortunate he was. He jogged a little whilst trying to catch up to Ron and Hermione who had gone ahead when someone slammed him hard into the wall. Harry's breath lefts his lungs and for a moment, he forgot how to inhale as he looked into the piercing eyes of Goyle.

"What 'ave you done to Malfoy, eh?" He snarled.

"Nothing!" Harry stammered when his breath returned to him.

"Yeah, 'e's in the 'ospital wing cuz of you. 'E won't say whot 'appened but we know you were 'ere at the time."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Listen here, you wanker. You should get your facts straight. Malfoy was attacked by Peeves, not me." When Goyle didn't release him, Harry kicked his shin as hard as he could. "Get off me!"

Goyle did release him because of the pain, but when Harry tried to run, Crabbe hit him from behind, elbowing Harry to the ground. Harry couldn't stop himself. He yelled. That had been particularly painful and now he lay panting on the floor, unable to get up. He heard Crabbe laughing while Goyle was swearing under his breath. Harry grabbed his wand and was struggling to get up when he heard the voice of his rescuer.

"Crabbe, Goyle, what do you think you're doing?" The voice of the potions master was laced with anger and when Harry lifted his head to see the man, he saw that his gaze was full of ice.

"Nothing, sir," Crabbe said respectfully. Snape raised an eyebrow and gestured with an open hand towards Harry.

"_That_ is nothing?" He inquired, his tone dangerous.

"Potter fell, sir," Goyle piped up.

In the meantime, Harry had successfully climbed to his feet and was now dusting himself off.

"I would expect you to understand that I desire any and all students from my house to act with a certain degree of decorum," Snape said calmly. "While I do not know what set this dispute off, I will not see any more of it in the dungeons. Is that clear?"

"Yes professor!" the two goons replied hastily before running back to their dorm.

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said sheepishly. Snape simply scoffed and strolled back to his office, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Well… okay then," Harry muttered to himself before heading out of the dungeons.

* * *

"Those dodgy mingers," Ron exclaimed, punching his first into his open palm. "You didn't even do anything. And did you say Snape stopped them?"

"Yeah, that was really strange," Harry said, reaching into his bag for his quill.

"That's not strange at all, Harry," Hermione chimed in. "Professor Snape is a faculty member. It's his duty to stand up to bullying."

"They weren't even punished, though," Harry argued.

"Of course not," Ron said. "He would never punish his _darling Slytherins_. Heck, if it had been the other way around, he would've deducted so many points, we would be below even Hufflepuff."

"You're alright though, Harry?" Hermione asked. Harry smiled at his friend's concern.

"I'm fine, Hermione. Thanks."

* * *

That evening, after having eaten a nice full meal in the great hall, Harry had gone back to the potions lab. His grades were alright again, and Snape had basically thrown him an invite the other day, so why not? Ron had to get started on his potions essay but did not want to do it with Snape glaring at him. Hermione had volunteered to help Ron with his essay, while also getting some homework done in regards to ancient runes.

So Harry was once again on his way to the potions lab. But this time, he felt no concern or guilt and was happy to go.

He was a bit early. Snape had warned him that he would be an hour later after all, but Harry didn't mind. He slouched against the wall and unpacked his textbooks, looking over the potion he wanted to attempt today.

What he really wanted to try was the strong invigoration draught. He thought this might help when he had to do a ton of chores at the Dursleys. It might even help him out right back here at Hogwarts if he had a lot of assignments to do or exams he needed to study for.

The only problem was that it took 6 hours to brew so that was not going to be possible in an after-hours lab.

So he thought that he might brew the Girding potion. Yes, it was a potion he should have gotten the hang off in his third year but Harry was ashamed to say that he hadn't quite done it back then. It was a helpful potion that could increase endurance but has a very limited allowed dosage.

It didn't take too much longer for Snape to appear in the corridor. Harry jumped to his feet again and met the professor with a smile. Snape simply glared and unlocked the door. He had a stack of essays under his arm and went straight to his desk to start grading them.

"What are you planning today, Potter?" Snaped asked.

"The Girding potion, Professor," Harry replied. Snape narrowed his eyes.

"That's third-year material, Potter. You're a bit behind I'm afraid. Why don't you go ahead and try to brew the Superior Girding Potion instead?"

"Sir?" asked Harry. He hadn't encountered such a recipe. "I'm not familiar with that recipe."

Snape started scribbling away on a piece of parchment while Harry stood there for a few minutes, waiting for a reply. Eventually, Snape beckoned for Harry to come to his desk.

"Here," he said, thrusting the paper towards Harry.

Harry eyed Snape suspiciously.

"What is it now, Potter?" Snape asked exasperatedly.

"I have no way of checking if this recipe is correct, sir," Harry said carefully. "Did you sneak a mistake in here as well?"

"I wouldn't dream of doing such a thing, Mr Potter. You must be mistaken." But Harry did not fail to notice the playful glint in Snape's eyes. "You have nothing to worry about. Now get to work."

Harry just shook his head and started on the potion.

"Professor," He interrupted Snape In the midst of him writing a long sentence in red on some poor kid's essay.

"Yes, Potter?" Snape replied, not lifting his quill.

"What makes this potion superior?" Snape put down the quill and raised his eyebrows almost questioningly before replying.

"It is superior because its effect is not only greater but it also lasts longer than the regular version. Not only that, but the added angelica root makes the potion less addictive. It still is, mind you, but you can easily drink two vials a week without any danger."

Fascinated, Harry took notes right next to the recipe Snape had provided him with.

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said when Snape finished his explanation and went back to his work.

"Ten points to Gryffindor for your question and effort," Snape added after a few seconds.

Harry looked up in utter surprise and shock. There was no way he had heard that correctly. But Snape did not meet his gaze again. Harry smiled to himself. That must be the greatest compliment Snape had ever given him. He never gave points!

The rest of the time Harry spent on the potion he did so while humming. That is until Professor Snape told him to stop before he was forced to sew Harry's nostrils shut.

"Professor, I didn't know you could sew," Harry had replied playfully.

"I most definitely can and I will if I must, Potter."

"You are full of surprises." Harry threw in the last of his ingredients and starting counting. He noticed Snape looking at him as he mouthed the numbers until he reached a hundred. He then waved his wand one final time and bent over the cauldron to check his result.

"I'm done," Harry called out, summoning Snape to his side. The potions master also looked into the cauldron and scooped up some of the liquid with a ladle to sniff its contents. His lip curled upwards ever so slightly.

"Well done, Potter," He said, making Harry swell with pride. Snape patted Harry on the back, probably trying to be friendly – if that is at all possible – but Harry, who did not see it coming, yelped in surprise and pain. He took a few steps backwards as Snape eyed him suspiciously.

"Alright, Potter. I have about had it with your secrets," He said. "I know you did not break your wrist last night, and I want to know what you're hiding. You _will_ tell me."

* * *

_Ooooh, what will Harry do now? What should he do?_

_Any and all reviews are also always welcome. Thank you in advance for giving me some!_

**_Last revised on 02/03/2020_**


	12. Chapter 12

_I got a bunch of nice reviews for the last chapter and I was overwhelmed by the number of people that favourited or alerted this story as well. Thanks to everyone helping me out and telling me about my horribly embarrassing error (using sow instead of sew. Come on!) as well as some other issues that I fixed immediately. And thanks for reassuring me about my punctuation. I'll just keep doing what I'm doing. _

_Know that I did my best to make this next chapter a good one. Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 12**

Harry felt the blood leave his cheeks as his face turned white. As he stared his potions professor in the eyes, he felt his tongue start to tingle with the anxiety that was now rapidly taking him hostage. He tried to put a smile on his face but knew as he did it that it looked utterly ridiculous.

"I don't know what you're talking about, sir," He answered flatly, trying his best not to make his voice quiver.

Snape snorted and took a step in Harry's direction who took one back in response. Snape narrowed his eyes.

"Do you take me for a fool, Potter?" He sneered.

Harry looked around frantically and when he spotted the door, he walked back towards it, keeping his eyes fixated on Snape.

"Well, the potion was a success, Professor," Harry diverted. "I won't be taking up any more of your time."

Harry spun on his heels and reached for the doorknob. Snape just raised his wand and with a simple flick he locked the door right before Harry could turn the knob. And yet, Harry kept trying it anyway.

"Don't be a fool, Potter. The door is locked."

Harry did not respond. He pulled harder and harder. He even put his left foot against the wall next to the door in an effort to open it with sheer force but to no avail. He felt trapped. Like an animal in a cage. And wasn't he exactly that at the moment? _No, no, no, no. this can't be happening_. His mind was racing. _They're going to kill me for this_.

When Snape advanced on Harry again, the Gryffindor seemed to have lost all the courage that he should have had and ducked passed Snape as if trying to find another way out.

"Please refrain from being so erratic, Potter," Snape spoke calmly, the hand with the wand in it resting at his side. "I merely wish to see to the injury you sustained."

"Please just let it go, sir," Harry pleaded, not finding a way out. He turned to face Snape again and knew at that moment that he would rather face a dementor.

"And why, pray tell, would I do that?" Snape asked, his voice still calm, one eyebrow quirked.

Finally understanding that he could not escape the tall, dark professor, Harry gave up on fleeing. Instead, defiance filled his eyes as he decided to take a stand.

"Potter, would you please refrain from darting around my lab as if you were a cat trapped in a cardboard box?" Snape continued; "Just sit down and answer my question."

"No!" Harry replied.

"No?" Snape's lips became a thin line.

"Let me go now, Professor, or I'll – "

"Or you'll what, Potter?" Snape's voice took a dangerous tone as his eyes narrowed. Harry fingered the wand that he carried in the lining of his sleeve. If he made a surprise attack, could he overpower Snape?

"I wouldn't try that," Snape replied smoothly to Harry's fleeting thoughts, "Unless you wish to be expelled _and_ hospitalized."

"Yeah, I'm sure you would just _love_ that, wouldn't you?" Harry challenged.

Snape had been inching closer to Harry step by step and was now close enough to grab Harry roughly by his left upper arm. Harry flinched dramatically and tried to pull away from Snape.

"Let me go!" he cried, alarm obvious in his voice. But Snape did not listen. He dragged Harry to a chair while the boy struggled to the best of his abilities. When all else failed, he did the unthinkable. He bit the hand that had a firm grasp on his arm.

It worked. Snape let go suddenly as if burned by fire, and cursed dramatically as he inspected his bleeding hand. Harry had fallen to the floor because of the sudden change in force that was dragging his body. He wiped the hint of blood that he had drawn from his mouth and stared at it in shock. _What had he just done? He was dead. He was so dead!_

Harry glanced up at Snape to see that the man had poured a wound cleaning potion on his hand, noticeable because of the purple smoke that evaporated from it.

"I'm sorry, sir," he pleaded. When Snape looked his way, murder was visible in his eyes. "Please sir, I don't know what came over me." Harry felt his chest tighten under Snape's glare and crawled backwards a bit. "Sir – please." Snape took a few long strides towards Harry who flinched violently in response, holding up his arm to block the first punch that would be thrown his way. Instead, all he felt was a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Potter, look at me." Harry did as he was told. Snape was looming over him as he cowered on the stone floor of the dungeon. If he screamed now would anyone even hear him?

"Potter, you need to breathe."

It was then that Harry noticed that he had indeed stopped breathing altogether. He tried to inhale but only managed a small gasp insufficient to stop his head from going dizzy.

"Again!" Snape's voice commanded. Harry looked at the hand on his shoulder and saw the nasty teeth marks that shone with fresh drops of blood. He still couldn't believe what he had done. Like a wild animal.

"Focus, Potter. Breathe," Snape's voice sounded more gently that time.

"I – can't," Harry forced out.

"Harry, focus on something. Focus on – here -" Snape rushed to his desk, took something out of the bottom drawer and handed it to Harry. Harry looked at the object in his hands and saw that it was a picture of a pretty young girl with red, flowy hair and bright green eyes. They looked very much like his.

"That's your mother when she was a girl," Snape explained. As Harry stared at the picture in awe, his breathing became less laboured and soon - without realizing it himself – he was breathing normally again.

The two sat there in silence for what seemed to be a long time. Harry didn't even know when Snape had suddenly sat down next to him but there they were, staring at a picture of Lily when she was perhaps nine years old.

"How did you get this?" Harry asked curiously, his woes forgotten.

"I'm the one who took it," Snape replied sullenly. Harry looked up to him in shock.

"You knew her?"

"Let me make a proposition to you, Potter," Snape said, gently taking the picture back from the boy. "Share with me what is troubling you. Show me what's wrong and I will answer some of your questions about your mother."

Harry looked long and hard at the Potions Master as if it was the first time he ever saw him. What should he do now? He was desperate for information – any information -about his mother. But what if Snape had the same things to say about her as he did about his father. Did he even want to listen if he did? But when Snape had looked at the picture, it was not hate that filled his eyes.

"Okay," Harry finally said, "But only if you promise not to tell anyone."

Snape seemed to think about this for a while until he finally inclined his head in agreement.

A shuddering sigh escaped Harry's lips as he stood, Snape doing the same.

"Okay, what do you want?" Harry asked.

"Disrobe for me, Mr Potter," Snape replied, his stern gaze resting on Harry. Harry did as he was told. He was still clad in a pair of jeans that was much too big for him as well as an oversized shirt with long sleeves.

"The shirt as well."

Harry looked up at his professor one last time, a pleading look in his eyes as a last desperate attempt to get Snape to stop this. But the man did not show mercy. He just kept staring, making Harry very uncomfortable. Then finally, in one smooth movement, Harry removed his shirt.

Snape visibly winced at the unsightly revelation before smoothing over his facial expression. Harry cast his eyes downward while Snape approached him to check the bruises more thoroughly.

"Those ribs are bruised" Snape muttered. Harry wasn't sure if he was talking to himself or not. When Snape turned Harry around he groaned, not even trying to hide his dismay anymore.

"These are infected." He muttered again. Harry felt Snape's warm hand trace every one of his bruises, sometimes prodding as if to see how deep the damage went. Snape's touch was in general surprisingly gentle and - though Harry would never admit it out loud – quite comforting.

When Snape was done with his assessment, he sighed loudly and walked towards his cabinet. Harry just stared at him as he grabbed a few potions and walked back over to the boy.

"This is going to sting, Potter," Snape said gently before applying the wound cleaning potion to the seemingly infected wounds on his back. Harry hissed when the potion made contact with his open flesh but uttered no sound. Snape opened a large jar of bruise balm next.

"I will apply this to your bruises," He explained. "You no doubt know what this is." Harry nodded and Snape smiled at him. Actually smiled.

"Meanwhile, you will explain to me how you were injured."

"The cabinet –" Harry started but Snape threw him a particularly nasty look.

"Mr Potter. If you dare to lie to me, I will drag your battered body to the headmaster and then you can spin your fabrications to him."

Harry shut his mouth with a click of his teeth and swallowed the rest of his sentence. He made no sound while Snape applied the balm to his lower arm first. He made no attempt to speak, having second thoughts about revealing his troubles to the morose man before him.

"Your mother and I lived very close to one another," Snape revealed. Harry's muddled mind was suddenly brought to attention as he inspected Snape with wide eyes. "I was the one who told her she was a witch. Since she was muggle-born she had no idea, you see." Snape smiled as if he remembered something pleasant.

"What?" Harry urged.

"What happened to you, Potter?" Snape asked. His smile turned back into an unpleasant scowl. Harry groaned in vexation.

"My uncle," Harry mumbled under his breath.

"Speak up, Potter," Snape reprimanded, now applying balm to Harry's aching ribs.

"My uncle did this to me."

A wad of bruise balm fell on the floor. Harry watched it fall as if it did so in slow motion. A few seconds of stunned silence went by before Snape removed some more balm from the jar to apply to Harry's shoulders.

"Lily and I were friends," Snape said. Harry detected anger in Snape's voice which went away as he kept talking. "When she got her Hogwarts letter, she was _so_ excited. Her sister was jealous, though. At one point we even discovered that Petunia had written to professor Dumbledore, asking him to allow her into Hogwarts as well. Naturally, he declined."

Harry listened with his mouth agape. "Aunt Petunia wanted to get into Hogwarts?"

"Indeed," Snape replied. "Does he do this often?" The excitement left Harry again as the spotlight was shifted to him but he felt a bit more free in answering.

"No, sir. He was just drunk this Christmas and upset about me being home when they hadn't scheduled it that way." He replied without missing a beat.

"Is that so," Snape said, suspicion in his eyes. When Harry didn't reply, Snape just finished tending to Harry's bruises and closed the jar again.

"I would like to inspect those wounds on your back again tomorrow, Potter," Snape said when he had cleaned up the mess he made.

"Could you tell me more about my mother, sir?" Harry asked eagerly.

"I believe I have shared enough with you in exchange for your answers. Perhaps I will share more in the future. We shall see." When Harry pouted, Snape frowned at him.

"Do not act like a toddler, Mr Potter. Be on your way."

Harry filled a few vials with the potion he had created earlier before cleaning his work station.

"Oh, Professor," He suddenly remembered. "I'm sorry"

"Whatever for, Potter?" Snape asked coldly.

"For causing you trouble and for erm… for biting you."

"Yes well, as long as you are not a werewolf, I am sure I'll be fine. Just see to it that it doesn't happen again," Snape replied with a half-smirk.

"Yes, Thank you, Professor."

And with that exchange, Harry was out of the door.

* * *

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose as he leaned against his desk. Now, what should he do? He promised Potter that he wouldn't tell anyone about his 'secret'. And sure, he would break that promise in a heartbeat if he thought he had to but he wasn't sure if they had reached that point.

He had the feeling that Potter was not being entirely truthful about his home situation. Could he really believe that the immense suffering Potter surely had had to endure was a one time occasion? And even if it was, would that not be grounds enough to do something about it?

Dumbledore thought that Voldemort was getting stronger, though. And if he was, Potter needed to be around the blood wards that would keep him safe. But what if he wasn't safe, to begin with?

Snape took the picture he had shown Harry out of his pocket and looked at the smiling girl that was grinning at him, waving occasionally. With his index finger, he gently stroked the kind face looking up at him from the past.

"Tell me, Lily, what do I do?" he whispered. Suddenly overcome with a tremendous feeling of melancholy he hurriedly put the picture back in his drawer. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling utterly exhausted.

Maybe tomorrow he could try and prod the boy again. See if he could get any other information from him. For now, he was not going to tell the headmaster just yet. If he wanted Potter to spill what he was keeping from him, Snape could not break his trust just yet. No, not yet.

* * *

Harry put on a brave face before entering the Gryffindor tower, steeling himself for the questions that were sure to be aimed at him.

"Chivalry," he called out, the fat lady flipping outwards in response.

When he entered the common room he found Ron and Hermione still doing homework, Ron gripping at his hair in frustration.

"Hi, Harry!" Hermione greeted when she saw him. Ron just mumbled something that sounded remarkably like 'greasy git' under his breath while scratching something off from his potions essay.

"What did you brew today?"

"The superior girding potion," replied Harry. Hermione eyed him suspiciously.

"I don't know of any superior form. Where did you get the recipe?"

"Snape gave it to me," Harry shrugged.

"Whaaaat? Show me!" Hermione was pawing at Harry's bag hungrily. Harry simply retrieved the desired piece of parchment from his bag and handed it over to Hermione with an exaggerated bow and cheeky wink.

"Here you are Milady." Hermione eagerly took hold of the parchment and ran off with it as if she had just found some ancient treasure. Soon, she was copying every word onto her own parchment, written in her cramped, tidy handwriting.

"Harry help me!" Ron cried out in frustration.

Harry laughed and sat beside his best friend, telling him everything that could be helpful for his essay. By the time they all went to sleep, both Ron and Hermione were very pleased but Harry was just tired. He felt emotionally drained and he hadn't even revealed that much. If he was honest though, he did feel a lot better physically. And somehow, he had his greasy potions professor to thank for that.

* * *

"_You knew what would happen, boy! I warned you not to tell anyone!"_

_Harry shuffled backwards. He was in the shrieking shack, a bleeding Ron thrown into a heap in a corner somewhere. He seemed unconscious. Uncle Vernon came at Harry menacingly, claws protruding where his fingers were supposed to be. _

"_You will suffer for this. You and all your freaky friends."_

"_Please, Uncle! I had no choice!" Harry pleaded._

"_Like I had no choice in taking you in, did I now, boy?" Vernon growled. As Harry watched, the man turned into a werewolf, eyes shining red with malice, fangs dripping with blood. The monster clawed at Harry with hungry eyes and bit down hard on Harry's throat._

* * *

Harry woke with a start, panting heavily, his hands clawing at his throat in a panic. That one had felt so real. He groaned, silently thanking whichever wizard or witch it was that came up with the silencing spell. After waking up and thinking about his dreams, he always realized how ridiculous they really were. But when he was dreaming, it all seemed so real, so horrifying that he could not help but scream.

He really had to take that dreamless sleep potion the next night. He didn't know how much more he could take.

As Harry had expected, the classes of that day were dramatic for him to say the least. He was unable to focus and had fallen asleep a couple of times. In History of Magic that had been normal, but his friends had gotten worried when it happened during other classes as well.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione asked, always the worrywart.

"I didn't sleep very well," Admitted Harry.

"How come?"

"Dunno. I just didn't."

He really didn't want to tell anyone about the nightmares. It was already bad enough that Snape knew about the recent 'problems' he had with uncle Vernon. If he added nightmares to that, he would really seem like a total wimp.

Which reminded him that he still needed to go see Snape later on to examine his back. He really didn't want to. The man's gaze always seemed to be able to penetrate his soul. And now that Harry felt so sleep deprived, he wasn't sure if he really wanted to encounter the potions master again that day. His head was already pounding and it was a cold enough day already without him needing to go down to the dungeons.

But he had no choice in the matter. If he didn't, Snape might go to Dumbledore, after all, blowing whatever cover Harry still had.

"Eat something, mate," Ron encouraged Harry, putting a few sausages on his plate.

"I'm not hungry," Harry protested. "I'm nervous to go see Snape today."

"Not looking forward to your first detention? Yeah, I get it."

"Right! Who knows what he'll have me do? What if he wants me to scoop out frog brains?" Harry felt bad lying to his friends, but they couldn't know. In truth, he was starting to feel quite sick and had no appetite.

"Well, good luck Harry," Hermione said, patting him on the back encouragingly. It took everything Harry had not to flinch at her kind gesture.

"My detention with McGonagall yesterday wasn't too bad."

"Yeah, but McGonagall is fair, 'Mione," Ron interjected. "Snape is just a greasy git." Hermione rolled her eyes and Harry forced a smirk as he got up to leave.

"Well, there's no point in postponing my torture," Harry exclaimed as he briskly started the walk towards the dungeons.

* * *

How many times had he been here now? Maybe the sorting hat was right. Maybe he should have been in Slytherin. That would make it a whole lot easier to keep coming here so frequently. The dungeons could not have been further away from Gryffindor tower and especially on bad days like this one, Harry could hardly stand the trek. Maybe he should make some Polyjuice potion and turn into some Slytherin kid so he could sleep in the dorm. But that thought was, of course, preposterous.

"Unfocused and sluggish as always, I see," a familiar voice droned. Harry took a break from rubbing his eyes to see Snape standing there.

"Professor," He replied, trying to not let the man get to him.

"Join me inside for your detention, if you please." Harry followed him meekly. Snape pointed to the wildly uncomfortable chair in front of his desk.

"Have a seat."

"Alright."

"Potter, you will address me as professor or sir. Have you no manners?"

"Alright, _sir_."

"Lift up your shirt." Harry groaned but did as he was told. When he was done, Snape let his long fingers glide over Harry's back, prodding the edges of the wounds.

"It seems to have gotten worse. This is what happens when you refuse to take care of yourself, Potter," Snape said. "Your generation of meek buffoons does seem to believe they are invincible."

"Well, I did survive the killing curse," Harry retorted. "Isn't that sort of the definition of invincible?"

Snape snorted. "A fluke that will most likely not be repeated, Potter. Now stop giving me cheek and lean forward."

Harry rolled his eyes and went to lean on Snape's desk. He rested his head on his arms as Snape once more applied the wound cleaning potion to his back. From behind him, he could hear the man muttering curses and insults directed at Harry under his breath but they didn't seem to register anymore. Harry was just so tired. Closing his eyes for just a second could not hurt.

But when he closed them, he found it very hard to open them again. And while Snape was now applying something that smelled like murtlap essence to his wounds, Harry couldn't help but wonder if he laced it with a sleeping draught.

For soon he was, in fact, asleep.

* * *

_There you go. Was it what you expected? I have my reasons and it's all in favour of the grand scheme of things. There was lots of Snape/Harry interaction in this one and there's more to come._

_As always, please let me know what you think / what you desire / What you liked/ didn't like._

_I love all your reviews and they get me to update._

**_Last revised on 02/03/2020_**


	13. Chapter 13

_Many thanks to Riddikulus Witch who pointed out what I was doing wrong punctuation wise. I'm working on it and tried my best starting this chapter. It was all in the dialogue!_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 13**

Snape put the neat pile of graded essays away for the time being and set his gaze on a still sleeping Harry Potter. It was truly astonishing to believe that it was this child that had bested the Dark Lord at least three times now. Wearily, he rubbed his eyes and stifled a yawn. He was about ready to call it a night. He would just need to get rid of the brat and this detestable day would come to an end.

"Wake up, Potter," he growled. The boy opened his eyes with a flutter and slowly lifted his head. Snape was rapping his fingers on his desk, making his annoyance quite plain.

"Your detention has come to an end. I suggest you retreat to your dormitory for now."

The Potter brat dared to look up at him in confusion. "Wha-"

"Did I stutter?" Snape interrupted, a sneer evident on his face.

"I'm sorry," mumbled Potter, "I didn't realize I fell asleep."

"Clearly," said Snape, "I expect you to be thoroughly awake for your next detention. If not, I will take great pleasure in devising the worst kind of chores for you."

Harry yawned widely, seemingly not impressed by the taunt. "I'm sure you will, Professor."

"Out, Mr Potter," Snape repeated wearily. Harry grabbed his bag, shot a confused look at Snape and hurried out the door.

Snape sighed. Was he getting soft with the boy? He had looked positively exhausted and any responsible teacher would surely not have woken a child as troubled as Potter. Yes. He would grant him this one time. But next week, he would make sure Potter would make up for it.

Snape was about to retreat to his private quarters when he was met with a terrible sensation. A pain he had not felt for many years and had hoped to never feel again. The dark mark on his left arm was burning. It was very dull and nothing like it had been in the past but it was clearly there. In a panic, he altered directions and went straight to Dumbledore's office.

* * *

"Jelly babies," Snape spat, very unhappy to be forced to say those words. It did make the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office move aside to make way for the spiralling staircase. As soon as there was enough room for it, Snape got on the staircase and took large strides to get up as fast as he could.

When in front of Dumbledore's door, Snape steeled himself and knocked.

"Enter," came the familiar, friendly voice of the headmaster. Snape entered the extravagantly decorated office and closed the door behind him in a swift manner as if he hoped to shut out an invisible foe.

"Sit down Severus," the headmaster invited. "Have a lemon drop."

"No thanks Albus," Snape declined the candy as he sat down. Dumbledore locked gazes with Snape as those blue eyes sparkled behind his half-moon spectacles. Knowledge was obvious in those eyes. Like he already knew the reason Snape was there.

"What is troubling you, my dear boy?" Dumbledore spoke, helping himself to a lemon drop.

"It's the mark," Snape explained. "It's burning again, though faintly. I think he's getting stronger."

The cheerful sparkle disappeared from Dumbledore's gaze for a moment as he seemed to be contemplating something, the wrapper of the lemon drop being twirled by his long fingers.

"Curious," he finally uttered. "curious indeed." Snape just stared at him.

"You know Severus, something rather concerning has been brought to my attention of late. I'm sure you will appreciate the timing," Dumbledore spoke with a tone that demanded attention. Something Snape was eager to give.

"You see, I received an owl from the ministry earlier this year. I was informed that Bertha Jorkins had gone missing. While an alarming thing to happen on its own, for sure, it was even more disconcerting that she was a ministry official."

"Was?" Snape dared to interject. When Dumbledore looked him in the eye, he saw no sign that the man was annoyed with the interruption. Only a hint of worry flashed through those eyes albeit briefly.

"Yes Severus," He continued. "Mrs Jorkins has been found dead a few months later. She had clearly been tortured."

When Snape was quite sure that Dumbledore had nothing to add he spoke again, "Did she know something of value to the Dark Lord? I'm sorry Albus, but I fail to see the connection."

"This I do not know, dear boy," Dumbledore admitted. "But my instincts tell me that this cannot go ignored. Severus, I need you to slip into your old role again."

Snape sighed deeply and hung his head. It's not that he hadn't expected this. Dumbledore had warned him all those years ago. He just never expected it to happen so soon.

"What will I do to regain his trust?" Snape asked. "If and when he returns that is."

"You can give him plenty of information about me, Severus," Dumbledore answered resolutely. "That should appease Voldemort."

Snape shuddered at the mention of that awful name as well as the knowledge of what was expected of him. "Yes Albus."

* * *

'_Get it together, Harry_!' Harry told himself, slapping his cheeks as if to stay awake. He couldn't _believe_ the way he had acted around Snape not only yesterday but also today, during detention. When had he become a snivelling coward? Not only that but falling asleep in detention while in the presence of the great dungeon bat himself? What was _wrong_ with him?

No, this had to stop right now and it would. Time to turn back into the person he knew he was and to stop being so scared of uncle Vernon's threats. Especially when he was at Hogwarts. Nothing could possibly go wrong here. At least when it came to muggles of course.

Steeled with a new resolve, Harry hurried back to his dormitories. Tomorrow would be a new day! And to make sure that he would start off that new day as he should, he made sure to take a few sips of dreamless sleep potion before closing his eyes. At least this night, he would sleep well.

* * *

The next couple of weeks had gone by in a blur. Ron had detention every Wednesday night while Hermione had hers every Friday night but neither of them had to go to Snape to serve their time.

Strangely enough, Harry's detention had been overseen by other professors as well. When he had asked McGonagall why that was, she had just quirked an eyebrow and responded that '_professor Snape had more important matters to attend to than misbehaving students._'

The thing was that he hadn't always been present in his lab anymore either when Harry wanted to brew potions after hours. There were other teachers filling in, seeming highly annoyed that just the one overachieving student was making someone stay there but it was all fine for Harry. It was nice, being able to brew potions without the feeling of a certain dark gaze burning in the back of his head. None of the other professors noticed or cared when he bottled his potions to take with him. Harry wasn't even sure if they knew what he was brewing half of the time. They usually sat there, quill in hand grading whatever homework they had assigned that week. Every now and then, though, it was indeed the potions master himself that sat at his desk, feet propped up indifferently, tending to whatever work he still had to do.

"Professor," Harry interrupted one time Snape actually had been back. Snape had simply made a grunting noise in return, his eyes not leaving the book he was reading.

"I noticed you haven't been around much, lately." Harry noted, "I was just wondering why that is?"

Snape's venomous eyes had shot to Harry's in reply. "And what makes you think that you have any business concerning what I spend my time with, Potter?" he spat.

"I was just curious, Professor," Harry shrugged.

"I suggest you keep your head down and focus on your work Potter. If you are not interested in improving anymore, you might as well stop coming altogether."

Well, Snape was obviously in a foul mood. Well, he was always in a foul mood, of course, but that day he was especially foul.

"You don't need to be so –"

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for your incessant whining and sticking your nose where it doesn't belong," Snape interjected. "And I do believe you are done for today. You may come back once you have found your manners."

Harry glared at the potions master. It was almost starting to seem as if that particular day a few weeks ago had never actually happened. What had gotten into the greasy git, Harry would never know. He stared longingly at his cauldron in which a half-finished blood replenishing potion was simmering and tried again, "But sir, my potion –"

"I will not repeat myself, Potter," Snape hissed angrily. He got up from behind his desk and walked fiercely towards Harry who looked up at him defiantly. Snape glanced into the cauldron and with a wave of his hand, he vanished its contents. Smirking, he opened the door and stood there, arms crossed.

"Be less curious about people and more curious about ideas, Mr Potter," Snape advised Harry as he angrily grabbed his bag and stomped towards the door. "And mind that horrible attitude of yours."

* * *

Snape was very on edge. By orders of Dumbledore, he had done his best to find out which of the former death eaters were still loyal to the Dark Lord and which of them would try and break ties when presented with the opportunity. One that Dumbledore would no doubt try and provide. Naturally, he had spent quite a bit of time outside of Hogwarts to achieve this goal and had missed several previous engagements that were, of course, of minor importance but had to be taken care of nonetheless.

What this meant for Snape was that his colleagues were less than happy with him for having to fill in for his detentions as well as being in the potions lab. Even if it was for just one student. And while Snape had found it quite amusing that the other teachers were finally experiencing the annoyance that came forth from one Harry Potter just because of his presence, it was tiresome to hear them complain about it.

It was no secret that he was not well-liked and, quite honestly, he wouldn't have it any other way. But normally he was ignored. Now, everyone seemed to have questions for him. The curiosity these people had. Full-grown adults, many even older than he was. It was disgraceful, really. At least Dumbledore had made it clear to them that he had been doing extra work for him. Work of which Snape was forbidden to speak. Naturally, this meant that Snape was the number one target for whatever juicy gossip and theories his colleagues came up with.

Honestly.

When it came to Potter, Snape had realized that it would be for the best if he kept the boy at a decent distance. If he was going to be facing the Dark Lord sooner or later, it was best that he was not seen coddling his nemesis. No, there were spies everywhere. He should know. So for now, as long as he saw no evidence of any further abuse in the future, he would just have to take Potter's word for it that it was a onetime occurrence and keep his revelation a secret as promised. Those blood wards would probably prove to be invaluable in the future and Snape would not be getting in the way of those.

The dark mark on his arm that had been faded just a few months ago was becoming more and more clear every day. Sometimes, he could feel the burn as if the Dark Lord was angry because of something. Snape wondered how much time he would have before he would feel the summons once more.

* * *

It was an amazingly clear day. Not a cloud was to be seen in the sky and the sun was radiant as it should be on a warm spring day. Harry was soaring through the skies on his trusty Firebolt, looking for the snitch. It was the third Quidditch match of the season. Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff. Lee Jordan was commentating with a wary McGonagall sitting next to him.

The stands were filled with students from every house as well as their heads of house. Slytherin was obviously cheering on Hufflepuff since they only wanted Gryffindor to lose while Ravenclaw students seemed to just be trying to have fun.

"And Katie Bell takes hold of the quaffle! Malcolm Preece is right on her tail but Katie is faster. She makes it past Herbert Fleet and she – Ooooh, that has _got_ to hurt! Anthony Rickett's bludger has thrown Katie completely off balance and she fumbles the quaffle. Tamsin Applebee catches it and they're off to the other side of the field!"

Harry winced empathically when he saw the bludger hit Katie square in the chest. He knew what that felt like. When he saw the second bludger come his way, he expertly dodged it and flew a bit higher, looking for that familiar glint while Cedric Diggory did the same.

"Alicia Spinnet steals the quaffle! Haha, well done Alicia! Can you believe her, folks? Amazing form, fantastic style and a looker at that – Sorry professor – She passes to Angelina Johnson! Johnson scores! 10 – 0 for Gryffindor!"

Cheers and boos broke out alike. Harry flew a tiny victory lap, flashing Angelina the thumbs up.

"Preece takes possession of the quaffle again and he is leagues ahead of the Gryffindor chasers. Come on Alicia. Get him! – ehem – And what an amazing double attack by the Weasleys! Two bludgers at once aimed at Preece. But he dodges them both and heads for the goal. He shoots – and he's expertly blocked by Oliver Wood who passes the quaffle to Bell again."

Harry was floating along leisurely, dodging the odd bludger while watching his team score point after point, slaughtering the Hufflepuff team. He noticed that Cedric Diggory was anxiously looking for the snitch, probably hoping to save his team by catching it early.

Harry hoped he wouldn't, though. It felt amazing to glide along, basking in the sun's rays. But even though he was lazing about somewhat, his eyes were sharp and searched every corner of the Quidditch pitch. When he found absolutely no trace of the tiny golden ball, Harry decided to check behind and underneath the bleachers.

"60 – 20 for Gryffindor!" Lee cried out, "Did Potter see the snitch? I have no idea where he dove off to folks. Ooh, a nasty close call from beater Maxine O' Flaherty! Better watch your back, Johnson!"

Alas, the snitch was not anywhere in the vicinity of the bleachers either. When Harry flew back up, he saw Cedric eyeing him closely, as if trying to see if Harry got the snitch. Harry just smiled at him and shrugged.

The match was starting to take a long time. Small, speckled clouds were starting to block out the sun. Gryffindor was now ahead by 120 points. Hufflepuff was in trouble and Cedric became frantic. All of a sudden, Harry saw him lean forward into a spectacular nosedive and gave chase right away. He manoeuvred his broom to fly side by side with Cedric when he too saw the familiar glint of the snitch.

Cedric was fast. Harry reached out when the snitch made a sudden, impossible turn upwards, passing the two seekers by. Harry looped effortlessly while Cedric turned briskly, both boys giving chase once more.

"A struggle has broken loose between the two seekers, folks! And what a struggle it is! That snitch is not eager to get caught today, is it? Argh! Diggory almost had it that time."

It was true. Cedric only had to reach out when the snitch did a full 180 and zoomed backwards right by Cedric's ear and once again towards Harry. Cedric followed the ball suit though. Harry noticed that none of the other players were still – well – playing. They all hung there, watching the two seekers as they chased after the highly erratic snitch.

"This feels like we're watching two knights in a jousting match. Both seekers at one end each! Snitch dead centre. Who will grab it? Here they go, folks! Oh, so close!"

The snitch had made a sharp turn right and to avoid colliding into each other, the two seekers did the same. They both stretched out their hands. Harry could almost see his victory. Their hands were touching, both grasping at the tiny orb when suddenly, Harry felt a powerful tug from behind his navel. As he flew forward, aware that he had no broom below him, he crashed hard onto the ground, tumbling as he did his best to halt himself.

Silence filled the stadium. Not even Lee Jordan knew what to say about the current events. The quidditch players looked around anxiously, trying to locate either of the seekers. After a few seconds, murmurs started to fill the bleachers. The teachers got up to their feet, confused as much as their students were. For it had appeared that by touching the snitch, both seekers had vanished into thin air.

* * *

"Kill the spare"

* * *

_There! What did you think? I didn't want to deal with the Triwizard tournament but I still needed to respect the happenings at the end of the fourth book. I feel like I managed that quite well. I'm pleased with the outcome anyway._

_Sorry for the slightly shorter chapter. But I really wanted it to end here for now._

_Please share your thoughts with me._

**_Last revised on 02/03/2020_**


	14. Chapter 14

_Thank you all for your feedback on the previous chapter. I was pretty pleased with how I managed to keep the ending somewhat cannon, and I'm happy you agree._

_Sorry that I didn't manage to upload this chapter yesterday. I was distracted._

* * *

**Chapter 14**

Even though Dumbledore didn't quite show it, Snape knew that he was anxious by the way his hands were keeping busy twirling his wand and his eyes were devoid of any shimmer.

The teachers had tried to clear the Quidditch pitch but most students lingered nonetheless. None of the adults seemed to have the composure necessary to avert the students' attention, save for Snape who could not be bothered at the moment.

To him, it had seemed that the snitch had acted as a portkey. It was clearly meant for Potter because the tiny ball had made damn sure that it had been him to touch it. Luck would have it that both seekers touched the bloody thing at the same time.

"Albus, what do we do?" Snape muttered quietly to the elderly wizard next to him. But Dumbledore seemed to be too deep in thought to respond. Worry started to overtake Snape. He stared into the Quidditch pitch once more as if hoping to catch a glimmer, a clue as to the whereabouts of Potter and Diggory. But he knew there was none to be found.

It was then that his dark mark burned with a ferocity he had long forgotten. Snape gritted his teeth and flung his hand to his left arm, grabbing it so tightly, his knuckles turned white.

"Is it him?" Dumbledore asked. His voice was the perfect illustration of calm but his eyes were filled with fire.

"It is," Snape uttered painfully through his clenched jaw. "Should I go to him?"

"Yes, Severus," Dumbledore responded, pain now apparent in his voice. "Go to him. He will surely punish those who fail to respond to his summons." Snape nodded curtly and started making his way towards Hogsmeade and out of the Hogwarts barrier.

"And Severus," Dumbledore added, causing the spy to briefly stop in his tracks. "Be safe."

Another nod and Snape was off, leaving an entire array of confused students and teachers alike for Dumbledore to sort.

* * *

When Snape arrived at what seemed to be a graveyard, he noticed that he was one of the last death eaters to arrive at the scene. As soon as he apparated, the gaze of what was a fully restored Voldemort met his briefly before turning back to what appeared to be Avery, getting punished.

He looked around him, taking in the gruesome scene. Peter Pettigrew sat at the base of a gravestone, cradling a stump where his hand was supposed to be. At least 30 other death eaters were surrounding the Dark Lord and Harry Potter. The lifeless body of Cedric Diggory lay sprawled on the ground, the light gone from his wide-open eyes. Snape felt a pang of regret but shoved it to the back of his mind.

While Potter was struggling against the bonds that held him in place, Voldemort glided over to Pettigrew.

"You have been very loyal to me, Peter," he purred to the disgustingly vile wizard crawling at his feet. "Raise your arm."

Pettigrew did as he was told and the Dark Lord performed a spell to bestow a silver, fully functional hand upon him.

Snape noticed that Potter was bleeding profusely from a large gash in his arm. The boy seemed to be in a lot of pain, yet a look of defiance graced his expression. It was a look that the Dark Lord was not happy to see. He released Potter from his bonds, only to torture him utilizing the Cruciatus curse.

Snape kept his expression neutral, even from behind his mask as he watched the son of his nemesis writhe in pain. The boy held up admirably and thankfully the Dark Lord stopped the curse quickly.

"And now," The Dark Lord hissed, "you will duel me, Harry. We shall make short work of the foolish notion that a young boy could stop the most powerful wizard of all time."

Potter just stood there, wand at the ready with not a chance in hell to win this. Snape was sure that Potter would die then and there and there was nothing he could do about it. Sure enough, the boy defied the Dark Lord one last time by resisting the Imperius curse altogether. Impressive for sure. But it would not matter.

Snape watched in masked horror how the Dark Lord threw a killing curse at the boy who feebly threw an Expelliarmus at the dark wizard in return.

And then, something amazing happened. Snape watched in awe how the two wands connected. He saw how the ghosts of the people the Dark Lord had killed were slipping out of his wand and he waited longingly yet agonisingly for what he knew was to come. It didn't take long to happen. Soon, Snape was looking upon the ghosts of Lily and James. But he only had eyes for _her_. He watched how the woman he so desperately wanted to touch one last time was speaking to her son and he couldn't help but feel somewhat jealous. But that was a stupid thought. There was nothing to be jealous of, after all. At least he had _known_ Lily which was far more than he could say for Potter.

He was so caught up in his musings that he barely noticed the ghosts swarming the Dark Lord while Potter took Diggory's body and the portkey, leaving the graveyard in one quick flash.

The Dark Lord was not pleased, to say the least. Some death eaters got punished but Snape was allowed to get back to Hogwarts as soon as he could to avoid rousing suspicion. And so he did.

* * *

Harry was cradling the dead body of Cedric in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, the snitch forgotten in the dirt next to him. The events were a daze to him. He was in pain. Heck, he was probably in shock. The boy in his arms was dead and all because Voldemort had tried to get to Harry.

Harry became vaguely aware of prying hands trying to remove Cedric's body but he couldn't let him go. He needed to get the body to Cedric's father as he promised.

"Harry, it's alright," a warm voice told him. "You can let him go now."

Harry looked up to see the blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore.

"Professor," he stammered helplessly. "It's Voldemort! He's back." When he saw the knowing look in Dumbledore's eyes, he relinquished Cedric and stumbled backwards. All attention went to the deceased Hufflepuff. Harry felt himself being dragged to his feet and taken away from the panicked screams and cries surrounding the Quidditch pitch.

* * *

Snape found himself in Madam Hooch's office, flanked by McGonagall and Dumbledore, wands raised at the old bag whose flesh was contorting and smoothing over after the effects of what undoubtedly was Polyjuice Potion wore off. Hidden underneath her ageing flesh and wild grey hair was Barty Crouch Jr. He had devised this entire plot to get Potter right where Voldemort had wanted him. And here he was, questioning the boy as if he were a fanboy, eager to find out what he could about his Dark idol. But perhaps that was precisely what he was.

Potter was clearly shaken by the death of his fellow student and who could blame him? It had happened right in front of him after all. Snape would never admit it but he felt pity for the boy who lived. Would the kid ever catch a break? This settled it, though. Harry Potter would _have_ to go home over the summer. But perhaps, Snape could keep an eye out just to be sure.

As for the matter of Barty Crouch Jr, it was settled quickly and quietly. Dumbledore had handed him over to Fudge who had brought a dementor with him, having the death eater undergo the Dementor's kiss. It was too bad, really, that the damage had been done. The Dark Lord was back. And Snape would have to dive back into the life he hoped would never catch up to him.

* * *

Harry sat in his room back at the Dursleys. He hadn't been home for long yet. It had only been a week and quite frankly, he could use a break from Hogwarts and the wizarding world. With Voldemort being back and Cedric dead, Harry felt the dread creep up on him during all hours of the day. It was always sudden and unexpected and didn't truly go away again.

Harry glanced at his door when he heard heavy footsteps bringing him back from his musings but when no one entered he just sighed and leaned his chin on his fist, his elbow propped up on the windowsill. He was staring at a suspicious figure who was standing in the shadow of an oak tree. Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes at them. Was the shadowy figure truly thinking they were subtle? Did they think they were hidden? Every now and then, Harry would catch such a figure somewhere in the street. He didn't know why he didn't feel scared about it. He knew that with Voldemort back, he should be afraid of being taken or even murdered but that didn't worry him. It was almost as if it felt impossible for this boring 'real-life' world to mix with the magical one. Besides, if Voldemort had been aware of his whereabouts, he would not be looking at the suspicious character right now. He would be dead.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his unruly hair. He opened his trunk, and carefully placed his potions out of the way while looking for his books. If he was going to be locked up in his room, he might as well work on his summer homework.

Why he was locked in his room? Well, just for existing he supposed. The nightmares that plagued him about Voldemort and Cedric had definitely not helped keep the Dursleys civil either. When he would wake up screaming, his uncle would not just let that fly. It was not like Harry could use a silencing spell. And the Dreamless sleep potion was to be used sparsely.

But even the Dursleys' taunting and bullying could not really faze Harry at the moment. He felt like a hollow shell of his former self. And Voldemort had everything to do with that.

Harry glanced out of the window and saw that the shadowy figure had gone again. Dipping his quill in ink, he got started on his transfiguration essay.

* * *

"Answer me, boy!" Vernon hollered in Harry's face before slapping him again. Harry hardly flinched and turned his face back to look at his uncle defiantly.

"Why haven't you finished your chores?!" The large, bulging vein in Vernon's purple face looked as if it was about to explode. Maybe he would get so mad, that he would suddenly collapse from an aneurysm. Harry hoped not. Awful as his uncle was to him, he did not want to see someone else die in front of him.

"Because you simply ask too much, Uncle," Harry answered flatly. This earned him another slap to the face. Harry growled lowly and glared at his uncle who punched the other side of Harry's face this time. Harry stumbled as he attempted to catch himself from falling.

"Stop looking at me like that, boy!" Vernon shouted angrily. "How dare you talk back to me?!"

"You asked a question. I answered it," Harry replied. If at all possible, Harry thought his uncle's face became an even darker shade of purple. '_Now you've done it,_' He thought to himself.

Sure enough, Vernon removed his belt with one smooth motion - as if it was something he had done dozens of times before – looped it in his hand and smacked Harry with it wherever he could get to him. Harry didn't cower as he once would have. He barely even lifted his arm to shield his face.

"You useless, thankless, idiotic FREAK!" Vernon yelled, kicking Harry's legs from underneath him, causing the boy to end on his hands and knees, "We take you in, clothe you, feed you and protect you from whatever dark freak is after you. And what do we get in return?"

"A house-elf, a slave, a servant,… " Harry droned uninterestedly. "Take your pick."

This earned him a swift kick to the head, filling Harry's mind with a blinding sort of pain. Comfortable darkness took him in its arms soon.

* * *

Harry lifted a hand to gingerly touch his split lip and hissed when he felt it sting in response. When he drew back his hand, he saw fresh blood on his fingers. He sighed in annoyance. His head hurt and not only because of Vernon's violence. His scar had been hurting off and on as well and for some reason, this made Harry angry. He felt angry more often lately. And who could blame him, really? Life just kept having it in for him. Harry got up from the floor in his room and looked out of the window. He didn't see a soul. What he did see, though, was his transfiguration essay, torn to pieces and thrown into his trashcan in plain sight as if to say '_Not under my roof, freak_.'

Harry just rolled his eyes at the immature display and put the pieces in his trunk. His uncle was a fool if he thought Harry couldn't just fix the essay as soon as he got on the train. Whatever. Let the man think he had bested Harry. Maybe it would mellow him out a bit.

As soon as he was done hiding the pieces, his door swung open with immense force. Harry glared at the menacing presence in the doorway.

"Not a word, boy!" bellowed the gargantuan muggle when Harry opened his mouth to attempt to speak. "You will _not_ utter another word, or you'll be sorry!" Something in Harry was telling him to ignore the warning. To push his uncle just to see what would happen. Common sense took over, though, and Harry wisely kept his mouth shut. When Vernon didn't get a response, he visibly calmed himself somewhat.

"Come," he barked. He grabbed Harry by the wrist and dragged him down the stairs.

"You haven't weeded the garden since you got back, boy," Vernon accused. "Even though your aunt and I have asked multiple times." He shoved Harry towards the front door. Harry looked back at Vernon as if waiting for another command.

"Well?" Vernon growled. "Get to it, boy!" Dejectedly, Harry did as he was told. Once outside, he noticed that the sun was shining pleasantly and a gentle breeze ruffled his wild mane. In spite of everything, Harry smiled. The day could not be more perfect for menial labour like this.

Harry inspected the front lawn and noticed that there were indeed many weeds protruding from the normally proper grass. Didn't the Dursleys _ever_ do this themselves? He wished he would have been given gloves. The nettles were especially vicious to pull out of the ground. But he knew he would not get any, even if he begged. Harry glanced at the street ahead of him and found it to be completely empty.

He focused back on removing the weeds, ignoring the uncomfortable burning sensation caused by the particularly vicious ones. After a couple of hours of tireless work, Harry's hands were raw and bloody. That was alright though. He had murtlap essence in his trunk. He would be fine.

"Wouldn't this be easier if you had gloves, Mr Potter?" a familiar voice droned coldly. Harry's head snapped around in an instant. Behind him, in all his glory stood professor Snape, devoid of his billowing cloak but instead dressed in black trousers and a grey shirt, a black trench coat hanging loosely off his shoulders.

"P-Professor," Harry stammered. He picked himself off the ground and dusted his dirt-caked pants to the best of his abilities, failing miserably. Harry blinked and met Snape's gaze. Had _he_ been the shadowy figure that loomed in Privet Drive? Harry noticed that Snape's eyes narrowed and took in Harry's shoddy appearance with a disapproving glance. His eyes lingered on the cut on Harry's lip, his right hand rising as if wanting to touch it but stopping himself at the last moment.

"What happened this time, Potter?" Snape asked, anger evident in his voice.

"What are you doing here, Professor?" Harry deflected, "Why have you been spying on me, this week?"

Snape simply raised an eyebrow. "I do not recall doing such a thing, Potter," he replied flatly. "I suppose you might have spotted other members of the order. I might have to clarify to them the basics of staying hidden."

"The order?" Harry questioned. But then Harry heard a sound from within the house and turned his head toward the window overlooking the garden, eyes searching for a sign of movement.

"Never mind, Professor. I think you should probably go."

Snape flashed his gaze towards the house as well before resting his eyes on the troubled boy in front of him, searching him intensely.

"Potter, are you hiding new injuries from me?" he asked, trying his best to keep the malice from his voice. Harry stared at Snape intently.

"It doesn't matter right now, Professor," Harry replied. "Please go before my uncle sees you."

"Potter, I assure you that no muggle scares me," Snape assured Harry. "Now tell me the truth."

Harry glared viciously at Snape, "No Professor. We are not at school. You can't tell me what to do."

"Potter, look at yourself!" Snape snapped. "You are clearly not well." Harry rolled his eyes, provoking a low growl from the Potions Master. He lunged forward and grabbed Harry by the collar of his oversized shirt.

"In school or not, you _will_ show me the proper respect, Potter," Snape spat. "Do _not_ take me for a fool." Harry slapped Snape's hands away and picked up his bag of weeds.

"See you in a month, Professor," he snarled and stepped back into the house, slamming the door behind him. Snape stood there for a few seconds, at a loss for words when he heard shouting and breaking glass from inside the house. No, this was not going to happen. Not on his watch. Snape took his wand, marched up to the door and tried opening it. It swung inward easily, allowing Snape entry. He hovered in the doorway for a few seconds, listening for the sound of a struggle when he heard muffled sounds coming from what appeared to be the kitchen.

Snape took long, hasty strides toward the noise and found an exceptionally large man pushing Harry against the wall with his lower arm pressed tightly against the boy's thin neck. A sort of anger flared up somewhere deep within his chest. Recognizing the familiar scene playing out before him from somewhere deep in his own past, he rushed forward and in an instant, he was next to the humongous muggle. Snape pressed his wand in his neck before the man had even noticed his presence.

"Let. Him. Go," Snape growled dangerously, enunciating every word. The man yelped indignantly and dropped Potter to the floor.

"Professor - no," Harry coughed, his voice a bit raw.

"Potter, go grab your trunk," Snape ordered.

"But –"

"Now!"

Snape watched Harry out of the corner of his eye as he hastily made his retreat upstairs, hopefully, to follow his orders. The oversized muggle seemed to be regaining his composure as Snape glared down at the shorter man.

"What is someone like you doing in my house?" the muggle he knew to be Vernon Dursley asked, his voice quavering. Snape's lips twitched upwards slightly, taking in the fear he knew he caused.

"It would appear that I am taking Mr Potter out of here prematurely this year," Snape growled.

"Absolutely not!" Dursley objected and Snape raised his eyebrows in mild surprise. "He will not escape his punishment that easily."

"And what – pray tell – is he being punished for, Mr Dursley?" Snape inquired venomously.

"He is an arrogant, lazy, disrespectful boy, not even worth the food we so graciously give him," Dursley replied, his face red and all his fear clearly gone. Snape opened his mouth to reply with a scathing remark when he heard a high pitched scream that made his ears ring.

He lazily turned his gaze to the hallway to lock eyes with Petunia.

"Vernon!" She screeched, "Leave him alone!" A child roughly the size of a baby elephant was cowering behind the thin form of Petunia. Snape saw recognition take over Petunia's horrified expression.

"You!" she said, pointing a finger accusingly. "What are you doing here, you filthy freak?" Snape snarled at her, eyes narrowed into slits. No one dared to speak to him that way. No one!

"Listen closely, you muggle halfwit," he growled. "You were entrusted with the safety of a child. A child that was born of your own sister. You have failed her and Harry tremendously. I will not stand for it!"

"And what do you care?" Petunia argued, not realizing how close she was coming to being hexed. "It's not as if he's your kid! Even though I know you wish he was." Petunia sported a triumphant grin, crossing her arms as if to say '_Checkmate'_.

"Petrificus Totalus," Snape sneered, aiming his wand at Petunia. Yes, using magic on muggles was not entirely legal per se, but Snape had enough of the vile woman. The child yelped and bounded up the stairs, two steps at a time. Vernon was beside himself with rage and attempted to punch Snape in the face. But Snape was not a teenage boy. He was an adult who had found himself in his fair share of combat. He skilfully stepped aside and dodged the flailing buffoon that was Potter's uncle.

That's when Snape heard a heavy object thump loudly in a rhythmic fashion. When he looked towards its source, he found Potter coming down the stairs, dragging his trunk behind him, Hedwig's cage tucked underneath his arm. His mouth fell open when he saw his aunt on the floor but before he could register what was going on, Vernon had grabbed Potter roughly by the arm, causing the boy to wince in pain.

"Fix my wife, right now!" Vernon shouted, momentarily unfazed by the fearsome potion master and his glare. "Let her go!"

Harry kicked Vernon in the knee, hoping that the large man would release him but this simply earned him a blow to the head.

"Relashio," Snape whispered virtually inaudibly. This time Vernon did release Harry who took his chance and stumbled towards Snape.

"Wait outside, Potter," Snape ordered, his gaze not leaving Vernon. Harry knew better than to object and cast one more look at his befuddled uncle, wondering if this was the last time he would see him.

When Harry closed the door behind him, Snape smirked and stepped menacingly towards his prey. Vernon cowered once more beneath his dark presence, which he had perfected over the course of many years.

"Please," he whimpered.

"You have no idea how close I am to setting your house on fire with you and yours still inside, muggle," Snape spat, his wand aimed threateningly between Vernon's eyes, "And rest assured that if I should decide to do so, it would very much look like an accident." Vernon's eyes widened as they darted back and forth between Snape and Petunia.

"Why don't you try and give me one good reason why I shouldn't burn you alive?" Snape asked flatly, twirling his wand between his elegant fingers.

"The – the blood wards," Vernon stammered.

"Ah, yes, the blood wards," Snape purred. "Now tell me, muggle, since you know so much about it; what's the point of them if you're just going to kill your nephew yourself?"

"I would never –"

"Yes, eventually, you would," Snape interjected. "I know your type."

"Please, I –"

"No more, muggle. Silencio," Snape silenced the large man.

What was he to do? He wanted no more than to blast the man into oblivion right then and there. The problem was indeed the blood wards. Snape himself thought it foolish to ever return Potter to this household but he wasn't sure if Dumbledore would agree with him. Dumbledore didn't even know what Snape was doing. He was only supposed to look out for suspicious activity from dark mages. He was not supposed to interfere with any muggles.

He focused his gaze on Petunia whose eyes were darting around the room frantically and released her.

"Petunia, what do you have to say for yourself?" Snape spat, ready to claw her eyes out. Petunia scrambled towards her husband who was moving his mouth like a fish on dry land. As if she would be safe with him. Snape inclined his head to look down upon the cowering pair. He noticed another pair of young eyes staring at him from the top of the stairwell.

"Answer me!" Snape growled, trying very hard to control his temper.

"I didn't – "

"don't start with me, Petunia," Snape interrupted again. "You knew very well what your husband was doing and you did nothing to stop him."

"It was to discipline him," She replied sternly.

"Is that so?" Snape replied smoothly, "In that case, I'm sure you won't mind me _disciplining_ your son in the same manner." He walked over to the stairwell but didn't get far before two feeble hands grasped at his cloak.

"Please don't," Petunia begged. "I'll do anything!"

"That's what I thought," Snape sneered. "I have matters to attend to. But this is not over yet, Petunia, do you understand me?" Petunia nodded obediently. Vernon didn't respond anymore. His face was white as a sheet. Muggles simply had no resilience.

With one last malicious glare towards the two Dursleys, he turned around with a swish of his coat and stormed out of the Dursley home, lifting the silencing curse at the last moment. He was not about to get arrested for using magic on muggles. Once outside, he came face to face with his young nemesis, staring at him with disbelief in his brilliantly green eyes. Lily's eyes.

* * *

_And there you have it! This chapter is longer to make up for the previous one which was slightly shorter. Okay, no honestly, this is just how it turned out. _

_I'm personally happy with how this chapter turned out. I hope you all are too._

_Please review! It means the world to me._

**_Last revised on 02/03/2020_**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any of its characters. I do not make any money with this.**

_**AN**__: I'm alive! Okay, honestly the update didn't take too long just longer than usual. I was reading fanfiction and I was always telling myself 'just one more chapter' but I was never able to stop. Okay, clearly eventually I was but it took willpower._

_On the plus side, this chapter is mainly interaction between Snape and Harry. I hope you will like it. I really enjoyed writing it._

_One final note, I was asked if I was about to wrap this story up. The answer is no! The end is not near._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 15**

"Professor?" Harry looked up at Snape, questions brimming in his eyes. He wasn't sure what was expected of him. He glanced over his shoulders toward his relative's house and frowned. No way in hell was he ever going to be allowed back there. And he wasn't yet sure if that was a good or a bad thing. After all, he had no one else to turn to.

"Yes, Potter?" Snape replied gently, not even looking at Harry. He was gazing in the distance, as if deep in thought. Neither of them had taken a single step since Snape slammed the door in his wake.

"What… er… is the plan?" he asked hesitantly. Snape continued staring ahead of him for a few more seconds before sighing deeply.

"Just come with me, Potter," he said softly and started walking, carrying Harry's trunk for him. Harry frowned and contemplated staying put. After all, did he really want to follow his dire potions professor to Merlin knows where? When Snape didn't slow down his pace, Harry quickly decided that anywhere would be better than here and sprinted after Snape.

Snape took a left near the end of the road and stopped in the middle of a narrow alleyway. He glanced down at Harry who had skidded to a halt next to him, glancing up at him curiously but looking down at his feet as soon as he saw the darkness in those familiar eyes.

"Take my arm," Snape commanded. Harry snorted at the odd request at which Snape raised an annoyed eyebrow.

"Problem, Potter?" He sneered.

"N-No, sir!" Harry protested, still wondering what on earth was going on. Harry looked at the arm Snape was holding out and curled his hand around his elbow. Man, this felt odd. But not as odd as what he felt next. It was almost as if Harry was being forced through a tight rubber tube. Somewhere along the way, he felt Snape's arm slip away from him and he grabbed it much tighter, scared of what would happen if he let go.

The world returned to Harry and he was somewhere he had never been before. Harry felt sick to his stomach and was breathing heavily, trying his best to keep standing upright.

"You may let go now, Potter," a cold voice brought Harry out of his musings. To his horror, Harry noticed he was still holding onto Snape tightly. He let go with a jolt and locked gazes exasperatedly.

"You could have warned me," Harry chided.

"And what would be the fun in that, Potter?" Snape replied, a thin smile curling his lips. Harry rolled his eyes and took in the surrounding area.

In stark contrast with the neat and pretty houses of Privet Drive in Surrey, this neighbourhood was dark and ugly. There were many brick houses that looked dilapidated. None of them had a front yard but that didn't stop weeds from breaking through the street. The few streetlights that Harry could see were all broken as were many of the windows that sunk into the houses. Those that weren't broken were dark and dull.

Snape walked away, Harry's trunk in hand while the boy who lived took in the unpleasant area. When he saw Snape leave, he hurried after him, sniffing in disgust when he saw a dirty river whilst peeking through the narrow openings between some houses.

"Where are we?" Harry asked wearily. He did not want to be here.

"Cokeworth," Snape replied curtly.

"Okay, well, _why_ are we here?" Harry asked again as he did his best to keep up with Snape's long strides, which was hard enough to do as it was, let alone when bruised and battered.

"And where are we going?" Harry continued, getting more and more anxious as they delved deeper into the heart of what almost seemed like a ghost town. So far, Harry had not seen a single person. When Snape kept ignoring him, Harry became really worried. Had he fallen into some kind of trap? Without warning, he grabbed his trunk from Snape's loose grip and took a few steps back. This finally got the dungeon bat's attention as he stopped walking and turned to face Harry.

"What are you doing, stupid child?" he spat, glaring at Harry as he took another step back. "We need to hurry before someone sees you."

"There's no one _here_ to see me!" Harry replied angrily. "Look, I don't know what your angle is but –"

"Quit your incessant whining, _brat_!" Snape interrupted. Harry glared at him. The man really didn't like letting people finish their sentences.

The two stared at each other for a while before Harry saw Snape's gaze soften a bit.

"We're going to my home," Snape finally explained.

"Is this a kidnapping?" Harry half-joked. "Because the Dursleys will never pay any sort of ransom for me. They might pay you if you promise to keep me, though."

Snape groaned in frustration. "Stop being an ungrateful little child," he scolded. "Or would you rather I return you to your loving relatives?" Harry didn't admit it but the sarcasm stung.

"No," he admitted.

"Then follow me before I regret my decision," Snape said as he turned around and continued walking. Harry struggled to keep up even more now that he had grabbed his trunk from Snape. Why wasn't he able to think before he acted?

But was this rundown neighbourhood really where Snape lived? The town looked like the scenery you would expect in some kind of horror movie. The shadows in the nooks and crannies were playing tricks on Harry's mind. Every now and then he had to stop to catch his breath as Snape kept moving forward. Too proud to whine about Snape going too fast, Harry just struggled along. Why did he have so many books, again?

"Are you lost, young one?" a voice suddenly spoke. Harry turned around to see an elderly woman, dressed in rags approach him, "Were you looking for someone?"

"No, thank you, ma'am," Harry replied politely. "I am _with_ someone." The lady looked around suspiciously. Harry wondered how near-sighted she had to be to not notice Snape who was only a few houses ahead.

"Are you sure – er – I didn't quite catch your name, child," the woman pried.

"He's with me Imelda," Snape suddenly said. When did he move back to stand behind Harry?

"Oh, Severus," Imelda cooed, "You are looking pale as ever. Are you eating enough?"

"Of course, I am," Snape replied. Harry was shocked at the kindness in his voice. "How is your back treating you?"

"Very well, thanks to you, my boy," Imelda replied gratefully.

"Well, just let me know when you need my help, alright?" Snape said politely. "But we must be off now."

"Stay out of trouble, Severus," Imelda said winking slyly. Snape raised his hand to say goodbye and scooped up Harry's trunk once more. He glared down at the boy who couldn't help but ogle Snape in fascination. Even when Snape met him with his darkest glare, he did not look away.

"Has no one ever taught you not to talk to strangers?" Snape berated. "She could have been a follower of the Dark Lord for all you know. Honestly, you are truly a complete dunderhead."

"Well, she wasn't, was she?" Harry replied. "A follower of Voldemort, I mean. She was just an old lady."

"Why, of course, Potter. Because as soon as one reaches a certain age, not an evil bone is left in their body," Snape sneered darkly. "And not a single person who treats you kindly could possibly have ill intentions, isn't that right?"

Harry scowled. He hated being treated like a small child.

"I'm not _that_ naïve," he replied shortly.

"After that exchange, I beg to differ, Potter," Snape replied. Harry just rolled his eyes and continued following Snape.

At long last, they reached a house that seemed somewhat grander and in better shape than the others, but only slightly so. It stood in the path of many scraggly streets that seemed to be clawing outward, not a single stone in place. If Harry wasn't careful, he would surely trip.

Snape touched the door which swung open and stepped aside to allow Harry entry. Harry obediently walked inside and waited in what appeared to be the hallway. Snape shut the door behind them, cast a quick spell and walked through a door on the left.

"Follow me," he ordered and Harry did as he was told.

The unlikely pair entered a sitting room. Harry had to admit that the inside of the house at least looked like it was well kept. The room was decorated in earthy tones with hints of blue and green. A large fireplace was erected in the centre of the wall that stood across the door. Elegant but fluffy couches were neatly arranged around a black table that consisted of multiple plateau's, a few books placed on them in a neat pile. A few blankets lay folded on a footstool, inviting Harry to just flop down on a couch and snuggle into them.

The wall was adorned with many bookshelves that were all filled to the brim. There were both muggle and wizard titles that were arranged per subject, in alphabetical order. A painting of an idyllic lake, surrounded by wildflowers of many kinds hung above the fireplace.

"Are you just going to stand there or would you care to take a seat?" Snape asked. Harry didn't fail to pick up on the amusement in Snape's voice. He sat down and couldn't help but lean back in the comfy pillows now supporting his back. Snape had spelled the wood in the fireplace to start burning and took a seat across from Harry, staring at him intently.

"It would appear we need to talk," said Snape. He didn't seem nearly as uncomfortable as Harry was feeling at the moment.

"I'm sorry, Professor, but I'm still not sure what's going on," Harry confessed.

Snape flicked his wand and two teacups alongside a teapot appeared on his table. He poured tea in both cups and handed one to Harry who took it eagerly.

"I should not have allowed for you to go back there," Snape confessed. Harry looked downward in embarrassment, remembering what Snape knew.

"I told you it wasn't that bad," Harry protested.

"Yes, and I chose to set aside my doubts because I had – well – other duties," Snape replied starkly. "That was a terrible mistake on my part."

Harry chuckled slightly at the unexpected words, "You did nothing wrong, Professor. It's safest there for me."

"Do you truly believe that?" Snape inquired, sipping his tea.

"Professor Dumbledore believes it," Harry replied. Snape looked at Harry disapprovingly.

"I asked if _you_ believe it, Potter, taking into account your relative's behaviour."

Harry shrugged in response.

"A verbal reply, if you please," Snape insisted.

"I don't know," Harry admitted softly.

"Yes well, neither do I," Snape agreed. "I will talk this over with professor Dumbledore tomorrow."

Harry looked at him in shock. "You're not going to tell him, are you?"

"Yes," was Snape's curt reply. "He needs to understand why you can't go back there."

Harry didn't know what to do about this. He didn't want to go back to the Dursleys if he could help it at all. But he also didn't want to explain to someone else what his home life was like. It was embarrassing and… his face went dark, contemplating his options.

"I have no choice _but_ to go back, Professor," Harry spoke, his voice void of emotion.

"Whatever for, Potter?" Snape asked exasperatedly. He was stunned momentarily when Lily's eyes, brimming with unshed tears met his.

"I just don't want to get anyone else killed," came Harry's soft reply. Snape just stared at Harry. The boy now had his eyes fixed on the teacup in his hands, a defeated look on his face.

"Is this about Mr Diggory?" Snape asked softly. He did his best to sound caring. He understood that this must be rough on the teenager but he never was one for soothing other people. Harry nodded in reply, rubbing at his eyes behind his glasses.

"What happened to him was not your fault, Potter," Snape said honestly.

"He came after _me_," Harry replied angrily. "If I hadn't been there, Cedric would still be alive."

"If it wasn't for you, the Dark Lord would have ruled for fourteen more years at least, torturing and killing thousands of people," Snape countered logically. "Or do you only take credit for the tragedies?"

"That's different," Harry replied weakly.

"It is not. You are not to blame, Potter," Snape got up from his seat and sat down next to Harry, awkwardly putting a hand on his shoulder. Harry couldn't help but grin sheepishly at the awkward situation.

"And you are not going back there," Snape added. "whatever your ridiculous reasoning."

An encouraging smile graced Snape's lips. It looked completely out of place. So much so that Harry couldn't help but chuckle. Snape raised an eyebrow.

"You know, you _can_ be a kind person, Professor," Harry grinned.

"I assure you that that is entirely impossible."

"Implausible, maybe," Harry retorted. "but definitely possible."

Snape snorted as he rolled his eyes.

"You better not mention that fallacy to anyone, Potter," he smirked. "I do have a reputation to uphold." Harry smiled widely.

"Your secret is safe with me."

Snape looked outside. With all the excitement of the day, it would appear that the sun was slowly beginning to set. He would be able to contact Dumbledore tomorrow but no earlier. Potter would have to spend the night here. It would be for just one day.

"I assume you have not eaten yet?" Snape asked. Harry shook his head, "I didn't finish my chores," he replied.

"Zippy!" Snape called and suddenly a house-elf appeared before him.

"Master Snape!" she called out excitedly. "How may I be of service, sir?"

"This is Harry Potter," Snape introduced them. "Potter, this is Zippy."

"Pleased to meet you," Harry stammered.

"Hello, master Potter!" Zippy exclaimed. "It _is_ very nice to meet you. Yes, it is!"

"Zippy, please prepare us a meal," Snape asked.

"Right away, master Snape!" and she was gone.

"Now, while she cooks, we'd best tend to your wounds, Potter," Snape said. "wait here." Before Harry could object, Snape had left the sitting room and had gone Merlin knows where. He still had his own potions to help him. He just hadn't taken them yet because of all that had happened today.

He opened his trunk and took out the murtlap essence when Snape came back into the room carrying several vials that Harry recognised on sight. Snape eyed the potion in Harry's hand and smirked.

"For once, I can't help but compliment your cleverness, Potter," he said. "Is this why you decided to up your skill level?" Snape raised an eyebrow in question and Harry could not help but wonder if Snape would feel offended by his ulterior motives.

"Yes, sir," Harry admitted.

"Very clever indeed, Potter," Snape repeated. "But a shame that it was necessary at all," Snape's gaze darkened with murderous intent when reminded of Harry's relatives. He really hoped Dumbledore would agree that Harry would have to stay somewhere else from now on. Then he wouldn't have to restrain himself anymore towards those two muggles.

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry said, misinterpreting Snape's body language. Snape snapped back to reality.

"What are you sorry for _now_, Potter?" he asked, crossing his arms. "For reaching a level in potions that is normally beyond that of a fifteen-year-old boy?"

"For my motives," Harry whispered.

"Don't be ridiculous," Snape said quickly, waving Harry's comment away with his right hand. "That doesn't matter. Is the motive of a good grade really any better? It is merely regretful that a young boy such as yourself deemed it necessary, that's all."

Snape helped Harry apply some of the murtlap essence when Harry winced at the stinging feeling.

"Oh please, Potter, I know you've experienced far worse than this," Snape commented. Harry just looked at him with confusion in his eyes.

"The Dark Lord used the Cruciatus curse on you, Potter," Snape continued. "And you held up better than most adults do. You behaved admirably. So don't go wincing at a potion because it stings somewhat."

Harry felt a strange sense of pride at Snape's compliment. That _had_ been a compliment, right? Even if it was helped along by a reprimand.

"How do _you_ know about that, Professor?" Harry asked.

"Never mind that now," Snape brushed aside quickly. "I don't remember you brewing any bruise balm, is that correct?"

"Yeah," Harry said.

"Yes, not yeah, Potter," Snape corrected. "Luckily, I always have some in reserve." Snape eyed Harry suspiciously.

"Now, the bruising on your face and neck is painfully obvious. Do you have any more, though?" Snape asked.

Harry shrugged, too embarrassed to point out his other bruises.

"Speak, Potter," Snape growled. Harry frowned at the potions master.

"You know, for someone trying to help, you are not being very nice," He noted.

"I believe I told you earlier that I am by no means a kind person," Snape replied, an amused smirk on his lips.

Harry threw his hands in the air dramatically, "Fine, you win. Your reputation is safe."

"And I am eternally grateful," Snape responded cunningly. "Now don't you believe for a moment that you distracted me. I will make this easier for you. Take off your shirt."

Harry scowled darkly, "so first you kidnap me, and now you want to undress me? What would Professor Dumbledore say?"

"I am losing my patience, Mr Potter," Snape replied, ice in his voice. "I suggest you stop deflecting at once before I regret my decision."

Harry felt that he had crossed a line and complied meekly. He took off the oversized shirt he was wearing and showed Snape what he had been hiding.

Snape did his very best to keep his composure as he scanned Potter's upper body. There were fewer bruises than last time but this time, there were also angry red welts on what seemed to be random parts of Harry's body. Snape circled him like a hawk and found superficial cuts, burns and even some mild puncture wounds. The boy was much too skinny for his age as well. Harry followed Snape with his eyes as he made his assessment.

"Is there more?" Snape asked softly, noticing how some injuries seemed to spread further down.

"Yes," Harry replied honestly, not wanting to push Snape's buttons further. Snape nodded. He sat down next to Harry and set down a burn healing paste, bruise balm, wound cleaning potion and some more murtlap essence. He had seen that Harry's supply was not going to be nearly enough.

"How long has this _really_ been going on?" Snape asked softly as he began applying the various potions and creams, bandaging what he thought needed bandaging.

"For as long as I can remember," Harry replied.

"You don't deserve that, you realise?" Snape reacted as he took care of a particularly nasty burn on Harry's collar bone. How did he even get that?

"Perhaps not, no," Harry agreed. "But it wasn't fair for them to have to take in an unwanted child either."

"As always your reasoning baffles me, Potter," Snape sighed, picking up the bruise balm and tenderly applying it to his cheek. "Even if that were a valid reason to be upset – which it's not, mind you – they should never have taken it out on an innocent child."

Harry just shrugged in response, not agreeing but not wanting to argue either.

"Look at me, Potter," Snape said harshly, waiting until Harry's gaze found him. "They had no right to do what they did. They are the worst kind of people and you did not deserve this. If it were up to me, they would be in Azkaban for this!"

Harry chuckled, "Thanks, Professor," he said. "For your kind words."

Snape raised an eyebrow, "This again. We've established I am no such thing as kind."

With a pop, Zippy appeared in the sitting room, not even remotely baffled by the scene she witnessed. "Dinner is served, master Snape!" She cried gleefully.

"Thank you, Zippy," Snape replied. "We will be right there,"

Zippy vanished once more with another pop and Snape turned back to Harry. He had taken care of his upper body but was aware of how self-conscious teenagers – especially those who suffered abuse – could be.

"If you request my assistance with the rest of your injuries, I will be happy to help," He said. "but if you wish to tend to them yourself, I will trust you to do so adequately."

Harry grinned sheepishly, "I _would_ prefer to do so myself, sir," he admitted.

"That is fine," Snape agreed. "Let's have dinner first though, shall we?"

Harry nodded eagerly. He followed Snape into what appeared to be the dining room. A small, mahogany table that could seat four people at most was placed in the centre of the room, underneath a shimmering chandelier with candles that seemed to burn without end. It would appear that Snape was not used to entertaining large amounts of guests, which was not to Harry's surprise, of course.

The table was set for two and was hardly able to contain the pots placed on its surface. There were mashed potatoes, steamed carrots with bacon, turkey and gravy. It looked absolutely delicious and Harry eagerly sat down across from Snape. A pitcher of self-replenishing water stood near the edge of the table, ready for either person to take.

Harry watched Snape fill his plate with the steaming pile of food and waited. When Snape eventually noticed Harry watching him, he raised an eyebrow.

"Is there something on your mind, Potter?" he asked curiously, cutting into his turkey.

"I'm just waiting until you're done, sir," Harry answered politely, "I'll take what's left over if it's alright. You probably weren't planning on having me here and – "

Snape raised his hand to stop Harry's babbling.

"There is plenty of food for the both of us," he said. "Eat all you want lest Zippy's work goes to waste."

When Harry still didn't start scooping up food, Snape started doing it for him.

"Since you insist on being stubborn, allow _me_," He said and piled up many a delicious thing on Harry's plate. "Now eat instead of watching _me_ eat," Snape ordered.

Harry snickered at the Potion Master's attitude and happily started eating. He was able to finish about half of what he got before forfeiting the battle, and leaning back in his chair.

"I'm stuffed!" he exclaimed happily. Snape sneered at him.

"You barely ate half of what I gave you," he said. "and I didn't give you that much at all."

"Well, I couldn't possibly eat any more," Harry replied, shrugging. Oh, how Snape hated the shrugging. He decided it was not worth an argument. He had offered Potter his food and even plated it for him. He wasn't about to start making helicopter noises and aim a fork at Potter's mouth. Perish the thought.

When Harry started yawning, Snape transfigured one of the larger couches into a bed and transformed one of the pillows into a duvet.

"Wicked," Harry said with a grin.

"Pay attention in transfiguration, and perhaps one day you can do the same," Snape stated simply. But then he took a moment to consider the boy. "On second thought maybe not," he added with a smirk.

Harry snorted. "Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, oh wise one," he said sarcastically.

"Tend to whatever injuries remain, Potter, and go to sleep. Tomorrow will no doubt be another long day for you," Snape instructed.

Harry was too tired to argue about his early bedtime and merely nodded his approval.

"Thank you, sir," he said. "for everything you did today."

"Of course," Snape replied before turning on his heels and leaving the sitting room, the fire in the hearth dimmed to a light glow.

* * *

The next morning, Snape got up bright and early at the first sign of the sun coming up. He got dressed in his usual black attire and went to the fireplace situated in his potions lab. There was no need to wake Potter up just yet.

He grabbed a handful of floo powder and clearly stated, "Dumbledore's office," before stepping inside the hearth to be engulfed by the green flames.

"Good morning, Severus," a sleepy headmaster called out when Snape walked into his office. Dumbledore was fully dressed as well but made a show of still wearing his nightcap.

"Lemon drop?"

"No thank you, Albus," Severus dismissed. "I have an urgent matter I need to discuss with you."

"This wouldn't have anything to do with Harry leaving the blood wards, would it?" Dumbledore asked smartly, unwrapping a lemon drop for himself.

Snape snarled. This crazy old coot always knew everything.

"Indeed," he responded flatly. "I deemed his household unfit and took him with me."

Dumbledore looked at him in surprise, "_You_, my boy? _You_ took Harry?" an amused grin spread across his ancient face. "I can only imagine. Did he come kicking and screaming?"

"Barely," Snape replied shortly, scowling at the headmaster.

"Now tell me, what exactly seemed to be the problem?" Dumbledore inquired, his sparkling blue eyes locking gazes with Snape's dark ones.

"Quite simply put, Albus, those muggles are highly abusive towards Potter," Snape replied.

Dumbledore's eyes filled with shock and sadness and he even dropped a second lemon drop he was about to put in his mouth.

"Are you quite sure of this, my boy?" he asked, seemingly hoping that Snape misinterpreted something.

"I am sure, Albus," Snape replied without pause. "I spent a large part of my evening tending to the many injuries the boy had. They were all inflicted by his so-called guardians. Though I suspect most of it was done by his uncle."

"I see," Dumbledore replied before losing himself in thought.

"Send him to live with Black, Albus," Snape offered. "I am sure he will dote on the boy quite excessively."

"You know as well as I do that that is not an option, Severus," Dumbledore replied. "Sirius is an escaped convict. And while _we_ know that he is innocent, the ministry does not. Can you imagine if they found out that Harry Potter was living with him?"

"So don't let them know," Snape offered.

"Severus, with the new defence teacher being what she is, I find that nigh impossible," Dumbledore countered.

"Perhaps the Weasleys?" Snape asked, though he honestly knew the answer already.

"They would be put in harm's way, Severus. You know that. And quite frankly, I doubt that Harry would agree with it precisely _because_ it would endanger his friends."

Snape nodded in reply. They both got back to thinking long and hard about it.

Remus was too much of a danger. It would take one night of forgetting to take his potion, and he would rip Potter to shreds. Granger was most definitely out of the question and quite honestly, that didn't leave the unfortunate brat with a lot of options.

"We can't send him back there, Albus," Severus piped up worriedly. "I am certain that if we do, we will one day find out he died because of his injuries or starvation. I will not allow it."

"Well, I do have one more idea for a potential guardian, Severus," Albus replied, a fierce sparkle returned to his eyes. "Though I wonder if you will hex me for simply suggesting it."

Snape groaned loudly in protest, "Albus, please don't tell me you're going to suggest – "

"Quite ingenious, don't you think?" Dumbledore interrupted. "He will surely be safe with you."

* * *

_There we go. I think this chapter turned out very well but I am more interested in what _you_ all think about it. Any feedback is welcome and appreciated. Anything at all. Gibberish perhaps? Reviews make me happy and keep me motivated._

_See you lot in the next chapter!_

**_Last revised on 02/03/2020_**


	16. Chapter 16

_Here I am again. Thanks for the adds and reviews, guys and gals._

* * *

**Chapter 16**

Snape was glaring daggers at Dumbledore, not causing the most powerful wizard in the world the least bit of discomfort. He was actually sitting there seemingly quite proud of himself, a wide smile plastered on that old, decrepit face. Oh, how Snape could strangle the man right now. Instead, he decided to calm himself down and took a few deep breaths.

"Albus, that is a horrible idea," Snape finally responded. "Potter and I couldn't be a worse fit."

"I actually believe you have a lot in common, Severus," Dumbledore said kindly. "And I believe it would be quite beneficial for young Harry to be in your loving care."

Snape snorted at that comment, "Surely, you don't believe that yourself, Albus."

"But I do," Albus responded, faith and light in his voice. Snape sneered at that sickeningly positive attitude of him.

"Honestly my boy, you've got me quite flabbergasted," Dumbledore said when Snape didn't respond anymore. "I was given the impression that you got along with Harry much better lately."

"Slightly better," Snape corrected. "But nowhere near amicably."

Dumbledore chuckled, comically tilting his sleeping cap to the side. "From what I hear, you're giving him private lessons." Snape rolled his eyes at the immature gossip Dumbledore had started to spout.

"I assure you, you have been misinformed, Albus," he sneered. "The boy is simply the only one still making an effort in the after-hours potions lab, and I simply need to be there to supervise any and all that seek extra practice."

"Oh, well it would seem that I have been misinformed," Dumbledore chuckled again, a familiar twinkle in those piercing blue eyes.

"Quite," came Snape's calm response.

The two powerful wizards eyed each other for a couple of minutes before Dumbledore reached for his lemon drops once more. He popped one into his mouth before offering the bowl to Snape who groaned in frustration.

"I would like to be reassured that you are taking this matter seriously, Albus," he growled. "Where will Potter stay?"

"It seems to me that we have run out of options, Severus," Dumbledore replied happily. "Harry needs to be somewhere safe since Voldemort is back and after him. You don't have anything good to say about the order members. Sirius is out of the question…" Dumbledore's piercing gaze met Snape's again, this time intimidating the potions master with a power he hadn't often felt.

"Severus, if you are confident that he cannot stay with the Dursleys, you are his last hope."

Snape wasn't sure how to respond. He got the awful feeling that if he said no at this moment, Dumbledore would singlehandedly throw him from the astronomy tower. But he was not fit to take in a teenage boy. Dumbledore's gaze softened when he saw the doubt in Snape's eyes.

"Severus, no one is asking you to be a father," He said kindly. "I'm asking you to do what you have been doing from the start." The wizard put a comforting hand on Snape's shoulder. "Protect him."

* * *

Harry was bored out of his mind. All the books Snape owned were boring and sciency. The potions books Harry could reach, he already owned. There were others locked away in a glass case but Harry could not open it.

Harry had thought about flying but he wasn't sure if he should. Was this a muggle town? If it was, he would be in so much trouble if someone spotted him on his broom. No, it was better if he didn't risk such a thing.

He had tried getting started on his charms essay but was unable to focus. So much had been going on lately. He was taken from the Dursleys and still wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. The person who had taken him had been the dungeon bat himself and he had gone to Dumbledore sometime in the morning. At least, Harry assumed that's where he went. When he had woken up Snape was nowhere to be found. He hadn't left a note or anything. Not that Harry cared or needed friendly notes to keep him in the loop.

He was sitting in a chair, with his legs propped up on the armrest when his stomach began growling. Harry groaned and tried to ignore the familiar feeling of hunger. The second time his stomach growled he heard a pop. Zippy the house-elf had apparated before him, fidgeting nervously.

"Master Snape said to bring you food when you're hungry. Your tummy informs met that you _are_ hungry now!" she shared excitedly. "What would you like?"

Harry blinked at the house-elf. Wouldn't it be more polite to wait until Snape came back?

"I'll wait for Snape," he replied. "But thanks anyway." Zippy did not leave though. She shook her head from side to side and flashed Harry a large smile.

"Not possible!" she replied gleefully. "Master Snape instructed me to not leave you alone until you ate." Harry groaned loudly, earning himself a concerned look from Zippy.

"Fine, just bring me whatever," he said, flipping over unto his stomach, feet still dangling over the armrest.

"Right away!" Zippy exclaimed and popped back into nothingness. Harry was staring at the carpet underneath him with his head dropped over the edge of the other armrest when he heard the familiar pop once more. He glanced to his side to see a plate with a little bit of everything on it. It was a mess of eggs with ham, toast, sausage, waffles, pancakes, a Danish and multiple other random breakfast foods.

"Zippy brought whatever!" she said proudly. Harry smirked at the quirky house-elf.

"Thanks, Zippy," he said and sat upright to start eating.

* * *

When Harry was done eating about half of what was on the plate, Zippy decided that he had probably eaten enough to satisfy her master and popped out to tend to her other duties.

While well-fed, Harry was still bored. Perhaps he could take a walk around town. If he didn't perform any magic, he wouldn't alert any muggles. And he knew how to act around muggles so that would be fine. And if the people here ended up being wizards and witches after all, that would be fine too. He would be able to fly his broom then.

Remembering how peeved he was that Snape left without providing information, Harry hastily wrote a note on a spare bit of parchment.

_I got a bit bored. Out exploring. Won't go far._

_Harry_

That should do it. Harry put the note on the table and placed a book on its corner so it wouldn't fly off or anything. And off he was.

The scenery outside seemed less gloomy than it had been the day before. Sure, the buildings were still awfully run down, and it seemed that Snape lived in the poorer part of town, but when you have blue skies overhead and the gentle rays of the sun on your shoulders, everything seems better.

Harry saw some people in the street, minding their own business. None of them were wearing typical wizard cloaks or brandishing wands. He saw no owls or toads. Cats he did see, but they didn't seem – well – like familiars. They seemed to be your average housecat.

Yup, this was as muggle as a neighbourhood could get. And Snape lived in it. Odd for a Slytherin.

Harry kept on walking, smiling politely whenever he accidentally locked gazes with someone and getting polite smiles back in return. He followed the river bank when he saw someone struggling with his fishing line. Harry paused and looked on with interest.

"Come on, my beauty. Stay with me," the man said softly to whatever it was that was tugging on his line. The man was tall and muscular. Wavy blond hair barely reached his shoulders, a five-o'clock shadow on his chin. His dark brown eyes were focused solely on his fishing line as if he saw nothing else at that moment. His clothes were dirty and seemed ill-fitted, though not as much so as Dudley's hand-me-downs that Harry was wearing at that moment.

The man tugged one final time and out of the river jumped a fish that was the size of Harry's leg. The man cried triumphantly as he landed the fish and started removing the hook, a gleeful grin on his face.

"Wicked," Harry said quietly to himself. He didn't know how to fish. Never knew he wanted to. But at that moment he decided, fishing was fun.

"Quite a catch, yeah?" the man said when he noticed Harry. "And what a looker she is."

"Yeah!" Harry agreed. "That looked difficult."

"Oh, this? This was nothing," the man said. "I've caught bigger."

"What are you going to do with it?" Harry asked.

"Eat it, of course!" The man said happily. "She looks delicious, doesn't she?"

"Sure," Harry replied uncertainly. The still flopping, wet fish did not look appetizing in the least.

"I'm Alex," The man said, extending his dirty hand while holding the fish down with his other.

"Harry," Harry replied, shaking Alex's hand. Alex went back to working on the fish.

"So, I haven't seen you 'round these parts, Harry," he said as he chopped off the fish's head with a sharp knife. "Did you just move here or something?"

"No, I'm just visiting," Harry replied, looking away from the bloody mess Alex was making.

"Oh, who are you visiting?" Alex stopped what he was doing and looked up at Harry, a friendly smile on his lips.

"Pro – er, Mister Snape," Harry replied. Alex's eyes widened in what seemed like glee.

"No," he breathed incredulously. "You're visiting _Severus_? The shadow himself?" He laughed heartily. "I didn't know people visited him out of free will."

Harry wasn't sure how to react. It was true that he hadn't exactly planned on coming here but Snape _did_ save him. Alex seemed to notice the uncertain look on Harry's face.

"I kid, I kid, of course," He said, waving his hand as if to shoo away his earlier comment. "Severus acts all tough and unapproachable but we know he actually has a soft centre." Alex formed a tiny make-belief ball with his bloodied hands to emphasize said centre. Now it was Harry's turn to laugh out loud.

"We must not be talking about the same person," Harry chuckled. "Tough and unapproachable, yeah, but that's it." Alex grinned widely. He was done gutting his fish and threw it into a container, preparing his line once more.

"Let's see…" he mused. "If we're talking about the same person, I'm sure you've heard him call at least one person a dunderhead."

"Yes!" Harry exclaimed loudly, pointing his finger at Alex as if he had just revealed the world's oldest secrets. "That's right. He _does_ do that!"

Alex chuckled. "He does it so often, that the children in this town are calling each other dunderheads."

"Oh, dear, is Snape a bad influence on children?" Harry asked in mock disbelief. "Who knew?"

"Now, now, Harry," Alex interjected. "All kidding aside, he is a good person."

Harry simply rolled his eyes. "If you say so."

Alex eyed him for a while before speaking up again, "Want to join me? I have an extra rod."

Harry flushed a bit. "I-I don't know how to fish," he admitted shyly.

"Oh, it's easy!" Alex exclaimed. "Here. I'll show you."

Harry eagerly watched how Alex explained how to apply the line to the rod and a hook to the line. He showed how to put bait on the hook. Harry was slightly disgusted with putting the wriggling worm on the hook but smiled when he finally succeeded.

Was it odd that Harry was trusting this complete stranger? His instincts told him it definitely was. But the man knew Snape and they were doing nothing odd.

"So, how do you know Snape?" Harry asked curiously. Alex looked at him in surprise.

"Well Harry, he _does_ live here you know. And I live here. Spinners need to stick together." Alex reeled in his line and gave his rod another swing, his bobber landing a tad further this time.

"Spinners?" Harry asked, keeping a firm eye on his bobber.

"Oh," Alex blushed a bit. "This part of town is called Spinner's end," he explained. "so we call each other spinners. Honestly, I don't even know _how_ to spin!" He chuckled, "Now if it was called Fisherman's end, I'd be golden."

Harry grinned widely. "Well, he's probably an absolute joy to have around," he said sarcastically.

"We don't see him around a lot actually," Alex said. "He's a teacher at some boarding school so he's only here in the summer. Occasionally for Christmas but not often."

"Well, maybe he's more likeable in small doses," Harry murmured.

Alex rolled his eyes. "Why are you even with him if you can't stand him?"

"Well," Harry started, not sure how much he should divulge. "He did kind of help me out. I had nowhere to go so he took me here."

"Classic Severus," Alex nodded. "You know, a few years back, my wife became really ill while pregnant with our child," Alex stared calmly into the waters, a wry smile on his lips. "We couldn't exactly afford to go to a hospital and there aren't really a lot of doctors around here. I thought I was going to lose her and my baby."

Harry didn't know what to say so he just kept quiet and listened, his bobber unmoving.

"So one day, this man dressed in black, eyes as dark as I've ever seen came to my house! He looked so stern, I didn't know what to expect," Alex chuckled. "At first I thought he was some government official or something, throwing me out of my house. I didn't want to let him in, but you know how he gets, I bet. He was all like – " Alex straightened his back and tilted his head upwards in mock arrogance. "_Step aside, mere mortal or face my everlasting wrath_!"

Harry couldn't help but laugh and neither could Alex, "Alright, alright, he did not say _that_. I don't remember exactly what he said, but it was something like that. The point is, he did force his way into my house, ignoring everything I did to try and stop him and went straight to my wife. He closed the door and locked it. I was beside myself with terror but – " Alex smiled brightly. "I don't know what he did, but when he stepped back out of the room, my Emma was feeling a lot better. He didn't speak another word and just left."

Harry stared at Alex for a long while before he even dared to speak. "I would never have expected that of him," Harry said softly.

"When I went to his house, later on, to try and pay him what little I could he didn't even take it," Alex shrugged. "He was very Snapey about it too. He said '_Do not present me with your worthless coinage, human. Blood sacrifice is the only payment I accept_'." Harry snorted as he tried not to laugh. Alex grinned widely. "Okay, so he did not say that either. Point is, he wouldn't take my money. He wouldn't even take my thanks. He just slammed the door in my face and went about his business."

Suddenly, Harry saw his bobber go underwater for a split second, and froze. Alex had seen it too.

"Okay, just wait for it to go under again, Harry," He advised. "Okay, tug at the line when I tell you to – steady – okay, now!" Harry did as he was told and was met with resistance.

"Now reel it in, Harry," Alex encouraged. "Hold up, give it some slack now before the line breaks. Good, now reel it in again." Harry tried to follow Alex's instructions as best he could but whatever fish was on the other end of the line, it was strong. It was probably very big to be able to put up a fight like that. Harry would tell himself that much to save him from the total embarrassment of what happened next. He lost balance and with a loud yelp, he was dragged off the river bank and into the river by the simply herculean fish.

Harry sat up in the river that wasn't very deep at all and spat out some water. Alex stood at the bank, doubled over in laughter at Harry's unfortunate accident.

"Oi!" Harry shouted. "What's so funny?!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Harry," Alex chuckled, calming himself down. "Your face! It was so funny." Harry was also laughing at this point. He hoisted himself to his feet when his smile faltered. He saw a dark and scary looking figure come his way at a rapid pace.

"Uh oh," Harry said causing Alex, who had just extended a hand to help Harry get out, to turn around.

"You complete and utter dunderhead!" Snape said loudly when he reached the riverbank, dark eyes focused on Harry. Harry was feeling quite embarrassed, standing there in the river, being scolded by Snape when he heard Alex snort at the word 'dunderhead'. Harry glanced over at him and met Alex's eyes. That had done it. He couldn't stop himself from bursting into laughter, followed suit by Alex.

If Snape was confused about this exchange, he didn't show it.

"Stop that incessant laughter, brat," Snape spat, crossing his arms. "And explain to me what you were thinking, venturing out of the house and doing exactly what I forbade you from doing yesterday?"

Harry's laughter faltered immediately as he was reprimanded. Snape was holding a crumpled piece of parchment in his hand. Most likely Harry's note.

"Come on, Severus, it was my fault," Alex interjected, seeing the defeated look on Harry's face.

"And how is that, Alexander?" Snape replied coldly. "Did you break into my house, drag Harry out here and dump him in the river?"

Alex rolled his eyes which Harry thought quite brave while Snape was in his current state.

"No, of course not," He replied. "I don't know who broke him out of your house, but he fell in all on his own."

Snape glared at the man who didn't seem fazed at all. "Oh don't look at me like that, Severus. The kid seemed a bit lost. I just taught him how to fish."

Snape glanced back at Harry who was shuffling awkwardly, water dripping from his wet hair. "And I suppose you thought it prudent to teach him how to fish barehanded?"

Harry's face flushed at that as he frantically looked around him. When he didn't see the rod he had been using, he started feeling his way around the cold water. His splashing caused Snape to divert his attention back to Harry.

"Would you get out of the river before you catch pneumonia?" Snape said exasperatedly.

"Alex' rod is here somewhere, sir," Harry explained, searching frantically. "I must've let go when that fish dragged me in." Harry missed it because he was focused on finding the rod but an amused grin found its way to Snape's lips for a brief moment.

"It's alright, Harry, I have more," Alex said, extending his hand once more. Harry took it with a deep sigh and was pulled onto the river bank.

"I'm sorry, Alex," he said. "I shouldn't have let go." Alex gave him a heartening slap on the back.

"Come," Snape said as he turned around and started walking.

"Do try and stay alive," Alex whispered. "I hear he transforms into a bat at night. Will you tell me if he does?" Harry chuckled.

"I will. Thank you for teaching me, Alex," Harry replied. "And I'm sorry about the rod."

"No worries, Harry!" Alex exclaimed happily. "It was the price of good company and absolutely worth it. Now go, before Severus gets _really_ mad at you." Harry nodded and sprinted after his professor, leaving an amused Alex behind to shake his head at the pair.

Snape did not stop until he reached his house. When he did, he opened the door, ushered Harry in hurriedly and slammed the door behind him once they were both inside.

"A couple of hours," Snape growled dangerously. "I can't even leave you alone for a couple of hours."

Harry blinked feeling confused that Snape was mad at him.

"I was just taking a stroll," he said, shrugging. "I even left you a note." He noticed Snape's fist tighten around the parchment he had left out.

"Ah yes, your highly _informative_ note," Snape scowled at the defiant boy in front of him.

"At least _I_ left a note," Harry accused. "As opposed to someone else I know."

"You have no need to know about my whereabouts or purpose," Snape replied.

"Well, neither do you about mine, do you?" Harry said angrily. Who did he think he was? When Snape opened his mouth to reply, Harry found enough foolish courage to interrupt the dangerous man.

"No, you can't do this! Thanks for taking me away from the Dursleys and all but you're not my father and as long as school hasn't started, you can't tell me what to do!"

The smirk that formed on Snape's features unnerved Harry more than any scowl ever had. Snape crossed his arms menacingly and glared at the boy with his dark, piercing eyes.

"I spoke with professor Dumbledore," Snape said after a long pause, "He agrees with me that you are not to return to that foul excuse of a family." Harry dared not look hopeful. He had the feeling Snape might hex him at any moment now.

"But you do need to be protected. And you need to go somewhere over the summer. Perhaps the Weasleys would do?" Snape said cunningly, knowing full well what Harry's reply would be.

He shook his head and murmured something under his breath.

"Speak up, Potter," Snape said.

"I don't want to put them in danger," Harry said more clearly now.

"That's what I told the headmaster," Snape said. He took a deep breath as if to steel himself for what was to come.

"After much consideration, we have decided that it would be best if you stayed with me for the time being."

Harry looked up at Snape in surprise and what could only be considered disgust.

"What? That's mental!" Harry objected, clenching his fists tightly. "I can't stay with you."

"As much as I am dreading spending my summer with you, Mr Potter, it would appear that neither of us has a choice in the matter."

"But Sirius could – "

"Black is a wanted criminal," Snape deflected. "Yes, he's innocent but as long as the ministry thinks he's guilty, they will try to lock him up in Azkaban again. Especially considering recent developments."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"This will be divulged to you at a later date, Potter," Snape said. "In the meantime, I assure you I went over every option with professor Dumbledore and the truth is, it's either me or those muggles."

Harry seemed to contemplate this for a while. Snape frowned at him, just a tad offended that Harry needed to think about it.

"I find it hard to believe that this is a difficult decision, Potter," Snape growled angrily.

"But sir," Harry said, still in thought. "Wouldn't you be in danger if I stayed here? As well as all the muggles who live here?"

Snape blinked in surprise.

"As noble as that train of thought might be, Potter, I am an expert at placing wards and will do so for our protection," he said. "But that will only work if you don't go wandering off into the distance."

Harry groaned in protest, "Are you going to make me stay inside for the entire summer?" He asked. Snape rolled his eyes at the whining brat.

"No, the wards have a larger radius than just the house. I will show you the borders when I'm done," He explained. "But you are never to venture beyond those borders. Am I clear?"

Accepting that he had to live with Snape for now and that he would, in fact, have to listen to the potions master, Harry nodded in response.

"A verbal response, Potter," Snape admonished.

"Yes, sir."

* * *

After Snape and Harry had a silent lunch together in which Harry kept throwing suspicious glances at Snape who in return ignored him completely, Snape went over some ground rules with Harry.

"You are allowed in every room of the house except for my lab and my bedroom which I will point out to you later. Enter those at your own peril." Harry swallowed hard when he realized the man was not joking.

"You will join me for meals, three times a day. You will go to sleep at ten at the latest and you will get started on your summer homework before you are allowed any leisure time."

"But that's not fair!" Harry objected.

"Don't you dare start with me, Potter," Snape said, glaring at the boy I front of him. "You are in my house now and you will abide by my rules." Harry crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair indignantly. Snape rolled his eyes at his behaviour.

"Do try to act your age, Potter," he sighed. "Now, while we are here, you are free to refer to me as Severus, as to make this transition somewhat easier on the both of us. Occasionally, I may call on you to assist me with basic chores, but I promise it will be nothing as excessive as you are no doubt used to."

Harry nodded his compliance.

"You will also speak to me instead of assuming I understand your intent through body language," Snape added angrily.

"Yes, sir," Harry mumbled.

"Good," Snape replied. "Now if you would follow me, I will show you to your room."

Harry perked right up at that statement, "My room?" he asked incredulously.

Snape raised a curious eyebrow, "Why yes, Potter. Did you expect I would have you sleep in the kitchen?"

"The couch perhaps," Harry offered.

"Would you prefer that?" Snape asked, not sure what the problem was.

"No sir, thank you!" Harry said sheepishly.

"You are welcome, Potter," Snape replied evenly. "Now if you would follow me."

Harry jumped right up and followed Snape up the stairs.

"This is my bedroom," Snape pointed to a door on the left. "Do not even dare to try and enter. I will know if you do. The bathroom is over there, at the end of the hallway, and this – " Snape opened a door on the right to reveal another room, "will be your room."

Harry gaped in wonder. This room was even bigger than Dudley's room. The colours were the same as they had been in the sitting room with a four-poster bed sitting against the wall. A large window revealed the view of the river Harry had been fishing at earlier. If he squinted, he could see Alex still sitting there. Harry grinned when he thought of the jovial man.

Harry's belongings had already been brought up and his broomstick sat mounted on the wall as if it had always been there. There was even a little sitting area arranged in one of the corners, with a couple of comfy looking chairs surrounding a table. A desk was placed underneath the windowsill and a wardrobe faced the wall across from the bed. Harry couldn't stop the smile tugging at his lips.

"It's brilliant," he breathed. "Professor, this is too much."

"Severus," Snape corrected. "And you don't have to thank me, Potter, it's just a room."

Harry turned around, still smiling broadly as he looked at Snape appreciatively.

"If I'm going to call you Severus, you should call me Harry," Harry said. And for a split second, he could have sworn to see a small smile tugging at Snape's lips.

"As you wish," he replied. "Harry."

* * *

_That was fun to write. What did you all think? Did you like Alex? I need feedback!_

_So if you find the time, I would like to kindly request you throw me a review. Hehe_

**_Last revised on 02/03/2020_**


	17. Chapter 17

_Thank you guys so much for all the reviews. I'm very happy that you liked Alex because you will be_ _seeing more of him. I wanted to update quickly to thank you all for your response. So enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 17**

Snape was walking around the edges of Spinner's End with Harry in tow. He kept his wand in his pockets as to not alert any of the neighbourhood muggles to any 'funny business'.

"You know," Harry said in an effort to quell the silence between them. "It's a bit odd that you are hiding the fact that you're a wizard, yet you strut around in your robes."

Snape did not reply but chose to throw Harry a particularly nasty glare. Harry threw up his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. Sorry."

Snape suddenly came to a halt, causing Harry to nearly bump into him. He glanced around and when he saw no one he took out his wand and performed a series of complicated swishes. While Harry knew Hermione would probably get a kick out of watching whatever this was, he was absolutely bored. He had been following Snape around for about twenty minutes now and the man hadn't said a word. Harry sighed deeply and slouched his shoulders as he kicked an innocent rock out of the way. Snape pocketed his wand once more and turned around to face Harry.

"This is the edge of my personalized wards, Harry," he said. "The other edge is across the river. You are not to overstep those bounds, understood?"

"Understood, Severus," Harry replied, cheekily raising his hand in mock salute. Snape rolled his eyes and pushed him forward.

"Come on, time to go."

Harry struggled a bit. "Aw, but Severus, can't I stay outside just a bit longer?"

"Honestly Harry, there is not much to do here anyway," Snape said exasperatedly. "And besides, we agreed that you would get started on your summer assignments first."

"We did not _agree_," Harry mumbled. "You commanded."

"Indeed," Came Snape's curt reply.

As they walked back, once again engulfed in silence, Snape had to stop walking abruptly when a pair of young girls almost ran underfoot. They stopped laughing and playing for a second to look up at the dour man that had crossed their paths. For a moment, Harry thought Snape might hex them into oblivion when one of the girls smiled happily, pointed a finger at Snape and yelled loudly, "Dunderhead!" The other girl started laughing and they both ran along, not sparing Snape a second glance.

As soon as the initial shock left Harry's system, he couldn't help but chuckle loudly at the ridiculous scenario.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Came Snape's voice, laced with venom. But Harry found it difficult to be scared of the potions master at that time.

"Sure am!" He replied, grinning broadly.

"Well, since you appear to be in such a good mood, you will no doubt help me clean out some cauldrons," Snape spoke smoothly as he continued his walk to the house.

"I thought I needed to do my homework?" Harry replied as he did his best to keep up with Snape's long strides. "You know, so I can go out and do things?"

"And tomorrow you may do just that," Snape replied. "Today, you will assist me in my lab."

Harry groaned loudly, grumbling inaudibly to himself.

* * *

"You know, you are well-liked here," Harry said as he was scrubbing at a particularly nasty stain. His head had nearly vanished into the deep cauldron, causing his voice to echo obnoxiously.

"I very much doubt it, Harry," Snape replied. "Keep scrubbing."

"I am!" Harry objected, scrubbing even louder as if to make a point. "And yes you are."

"I suppose I will just have to take your word for it," Snape sighed.

Harry kept scrubbing at the cauldron he had been working on until it was perfectly clean. He admired his handiwork and put the cauldron aside, grabbing the next one that urgently needed his attention.

"It's not a bad thing, you know," Harry said after a long while. "To be liked."

Snape made a noncommittal sound as he kept brewing what seemed to be a calming draught.

"Alex told me what you did for his wife," Harry tried again.

"Harry, must you keep jabbering away like some bewitched parrot?" Snape finally said.

"I'm sorry, Severus," Harry replied, still getting used to the first name basis they were on. "I was just wondering about you."

"Well, don't," came Snape's curt reply. "You wouldn't like what you found."

Harry frowned at the matter-of-factly way in which Snape spoke but he decided to not press the matter any further. Perhaps a change of topic.

"Why are you brewing a calming draught?"

"Because I am surely going to need it after spending this summer with you," Snape snapped. When he saw by the look on Harry's face that he wasn't sure if he was joking or not he said, "It's for Madam Pomfrey."

"Oh," Said Harry.

"Indeed," replied Snape before getting back to his stirring. Harry became aware of the fact that he wasn't going to get anything out of his professor at this point. So he decided to focus entirely on the cauldrons to get the job done much quicker. As he was an expert when it came to cleaning, he was done remarkably fast.

"Finished," Harry exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. Snape put his potion in stasis so he could come inspect Harry's work. When he was unable to spot any leftover dirt or marks, he nodded approvingly.

"Very well, you may be excused," He said, somewhat amazed at the efficient work the Gryffindor had shown. "It would appear that you have about an hour left before you have to go to bed. Spend it wisely."

Harry knew precisely what it was that Snape meant and begrudgingly went up to his room to get started on his homework. He had to admit though: doing his work on a nice desk, looking out of the window of his very own room with a cup of tea within reach wasn't all that bad.

When he spotted the shredded transfiguration essay that was still in his trunk, he took the pieces and placed them in a neat pile on his desk. Tomorrow he would ask Severus to fix it for him. For now, he would get started on his potions essay. He had to write an abominably large amount on the creation and effects of Polyjuice potion. Luckily, he had first-hand experience on the subject – not that he would surprise Snape with an anecdote on the matter – which would make it easier to complete his essay.

He had already written several well-worded paragraphs when he heard a knock on his door. Without even waiting for an answer, Snape immediately opened it. When he saw Harry working on an essay, he nodded approvingly. "It is past your bedtime, Harry," he noted plainly. "You may continue working tomorrow."

Harry sighed. At least when he was at the Dursleys, he could stay up as late as he wanted. As long as he got up in time to make their breakfast and remained quiet at least. He got up from his seat when Snape saw the shredded pieces of paper.

"What's that?" He asked.

"Oh, it _was_ my transfiguration essay," Harry replied. Snape kept staring at Harry as if waiting for more information. "My uncle shredded it. He doesn't like me doing anything related to magic or Hogwarts."

"Your uncle… shredded your homework," Snape replied in disbelief. He sighed and waved his wand over the parchment, restoring it to its former glory. Before Harry could gratefully accept the parchment, Snape took it and glanced it over. He clicked his tongue and focused his gaze back on Harry.

"Subpar indeed, Harry," he admonished. "I will look it over and tomorrow you may try again. Perhaps a change of environment will help you put some more effort into your work." Harry pouted immaturely at the statement.

Snape knew he was being harsh. He understood that it must not be easy doing your homework while looking over your shoulder as if you were doing something illegal. But now that Harry was here, he could try harder. Do his best. Snape knew he could do it. He had seen it in the potions essays the boy turned in this year. All he could do was encourage the boy to do better.

"Goodnight, Harry," he said, turning off the lights before Harry was even ready.

"Hey!" Harry called but Snape had already closed the door, grinning widely. Harry just rolled his eyes and turned the light back on before changing into his pajamas and crawling back into his bed. Soon, surrounded by comfort and warmth he had only known in Hogwarts, he fell asleep.

* * *

"_How could you throw my calming draught into the river?" a Furious Snape said, his wand trained on Harry, "My work is ruined!"_

"_We warned you that he was good for nothing," Vernon sneered, his arms crossed as he looked at his nephew in disgust._

"Well, take him back," Snape said to Vernon, his eyes not leaving Harry. "I don't want him here after all."

"_Oh, I don't think so," Vernon replied, laughing haughtily. "He's a freak and he belongs with freaks."_

_The scenery changed when Harry found himself back in the graveyard. He was chained to a tombstone and Cedric stood next to him._

"_Why do people have to die for you, Harry?" Cedric asked as he began crying blood. "Was my life really less important than yours?"_

_Voldemort cackled as Pettigrew raised his wand and hit Cedric with the killing curse, green light temporarily blinding Harry. _

"_No!" Harry cried out but it was too late. Cedric lay dead at his feet, open eyes staring at Harry accusingly. _

_Voldemort laughed even harder as he was joined by Vernon in his glee. Harry cried and fought his bonds but he was unable to get away. His angry sobs choked him as his tears flowed steadily down his cheeks._

"_Why are you doing this?" _

"_Because you deserve it," Vernon said coldly. "Because no one wants you. That's why you ended up with someone who hates you. There is no one for you"_

"_That's not true!" Harry cried, but he knew that it, in fact, was true. "It's not true."_

* * *

Harry opened his eyes, as he tried to suppress another sob. It had been a dream. He suddenly noticed that he was leaning against something warm and soft. He also noticed that that something was stroking his hair and mumbling soothing words softly, "It will be alright, Harry. You are safe." Strong arms were holding him in a soft embrace, relaxing Harry somewhat. The mixed smell of earth, poppies, and thyme filled his nose.

Still half asleep, Harry made the best guess his murky brain could muster, "Dad?" The something or rather someone froze for a second before removing his hand from Harry's hair.

"It's me, Harry," a familiar voice said. "It's Severus,"

With a jolt, Harry realized where he was, memories flooding back from the previous night. He sat up abruptly, looking up at the worried potions master, his face a shameful deep red.

"P-Professor," Harry stammered, his heart beating fast. "I'm sorry."

Snape seemed to collect himself somewhat yet he couldn't shake the worry in his eyes. And Harry felt all the weaker because of it.

"Harry, it's fine," Snape said, his voice oddly reassuring. "Calm down."

Harry wasn't sure what to say or how to behave. He sat with his back against the wall and started fidgeting with a loose strand he found on his blanket. He noticed that his face was still wet with tears and he rubbed at it furiously. Snape just sat there, eyeing him patiently.

"Harry," Snape said a bit more strongly when Harry didn't respond. "Please look at me." Harry did just that, just wanting whatever was to happen next to be over. This was mortifying, to say the least.

"Do you wish to talk about it?" Snape offered kindly. Harry shook his head and Snape kept himself from admonishing him for the non-verbal reply. "As you wish," he sighed. "Would you like some dreamless sleep potion?"

Harry hesitated before answering. "I can't. I took some 5 days ago." Snape frowned a bit but decided not to press the matter at that point.

"That is the responsible answer then, Harry," He said. "Would you like me to stay here until you fall asleep?"

Harry furiously shook his head no. As shameful as waking up in his potions masters arms was, that had been something out of his control. He would be damned if he was going to try and fall asleep with those piercing dark eyes watching him. Though Harry had to admit to himself that he wanted nothing more at that time.

"Very well," Snape replied as he stood up. Harry felt a sharp pang of regret as Snape moved towards the door but didn't say anything. He'd be damned if he came across as a needy child. Snape glanced over at Harry one last time before leaving the room. He left the door slightly ajar and left the warm light on in the hallway. Harry had almost protested that he didn't want to be coddled like that but he appreciated the gesture.

He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind of the awful dream he just had. And before long, he fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Snape sat in his sitting room, a glass of fire whiskey swirling calmly in his hand. He was mulling over the occurrences of that night. Harry had clearly had a nightmare. And a pretty bad one at that. When Snape had heard the noises coming from Harry's room, he had come in, ready to scold Harry for still being up when he saw the child toss and turn, tears falling down his face.

Snape had tried to shake Harry awake, calling out his name but it didn't work. Eventually, Snape had found nothing better than to take the still young boy awkwardly into his arms and cradle him. It was nothing he had ever done for a student or anyone else for that matter but it was all he could think to do at that time.

It had worked. Harry had calmed down and opened his eyes. He had clearly been embarrassed about the whole ordeal. So had Snape but he had done his best to occlude and not show his embarrassment to Harry. He had tried to help in whatever way he could but Harry had already taken the dreamless sleep potion recently. Did that mean these nightmares were a recurring thing and not just because of the stress of moving here?

Snape scoffed to himself, taking a sip of his whiskey. The boy had been through a lot over his few years of being the boy-who-lived. It was not _that_ surprising to learn that he had nightmares. Snape was in no way a mind healer but for now, he could not provide the boy with one. The fewer people knew he was here, the better. Muggles were fine, but the magical community would have a field day and Snape's days as a spy would be over.

He would just have to be patient and hope that his nightmares would subside over time, just like Snape's had. And he would be there for him, even if Harry didn't want that right now. Snape sighed as he downed the rest of his fire whiskey in one gulp and retreated to his bedroom, pausing briefly at Harry's door to listen for any sound. When there was none, he too went to sleep.

* * *

Harry felt like a wreck. He slept poorly last night and groaned when he remembered why that was. He couldn't believe Snape had coddled him like that. Sure, it beat the Dursleys who would just hiss at him to shut up, but it was nothing short of embarrassing. It had also been sort of nice though.

Harry – who didn't know what to think – put on his clothes and headed downstairs, smelling what appeared to be eggs and bacon.

"Good morning," Snape greeted, depositing eggs on two plates.

"'Morning," Harry greeted back, stifling a yawn. Snape set a plate in front of Harry and poured him a glass of pumpkin juice. Harry gratefully started eating, glad to have his mouth occupied so he wouldn't be forced to talk.

"I looked over your transfiguration essay," Snape said as he handed Harry his essay back, red words adorning pretty much every paragraph. Some sections were scratched off entirely. "I feel that it needs more work."

"But that's not fair!" Harry protested. "I worked really hard on it."

"And it was a good first draft," Snape replied calmly, cutting into his own eggs, putting some on a piece of toast. "But it needs more work to be satisfactory."

"It's not even the potions essay," Harry grumbled. "Why does it matter to you?"

"Because I am responsible for you at the moment, Harry," Snape said, his dark gaze revealing that he was running out of patience. "You will redo the assignment without another word. Unless you wish to be given an extra assignment of writing lines?" he added.

"No, sir," Harry said dejectedly.

"Severus," Snape corrected once more, wishing for the boy to loosen up a little.

"Whatever," Harry grumbled picking at his food.

"Harry," Snape said sternly. "I understand that you had a rough night but you will not take that tone with me. Get your act together now or face the consequences."

Harry bit back a retort that would surely get him into trouble and said what he thought Snape would want him to say. "Yes, Severus."

"Good," Snape nodded approvingly. "Now eat up. Today, you and I are going out."

Harry perked right up at that. "But I didn't finish my homework yet."

"You've already done a lot," Snape admitted. "And while I will not let you leave it until the last minute, you do need a change of pace every now and then."

Harry grinned happily, taking another bite of his eggs. "Where are we going?"

"Don't speak with your mouth full," Snape admonished. " And I am taking you shopping."

Harry seemed confused at that statement. "What for?"

Snape frowned and eyed Harry up and down, making the boy squirm in discomfort. "Your attire is abysmal. You seem to have nothing that fits you and it is all worn out."

Once more, Harry felt his face flush in embarrassment. "It's fine, Sir, er, Severus," Harry said. "I don't need more clothes."

"You simply have no choice in the matter," Snape said flatly. "Either you stay here and continue working on your homework while I pick out whatever I like, or you come with me and get to have a say in the matter."

Harry sighed in defeat. "Fine, but I will have to go to Gringotts first since I don't have that much money left over. They do exchange galleons to muggle money there, right?'

"Harry, forget about that," Snape said, frowning at the child in front of him. "You are not to pay a knut for your clothes."

"I can't let _you_ pay for my clothes either," Harry replied in astonishment. "You're already letting me live here and giving me food. It is more than enough."

"This is not open for discussion, Harry," Snape said sternly. "The only thing you get to decide is if you want to stay here or come with."

Harry made an exasperated noise, but couldn't help the small smile that found its way on his lips. "I'll come with."

"Very well," Snape said as he picked up the Daily Prophet, reading about the boring every-day decisions of the Minister of Magic.

* * *

Since there were literally no clothing shops in Cokeworth, Snape was taking Harry to muggle London. It was easy enough. They flood to Diagon Alley first. Harry had wanted to check out the many magical shops but Snape would have none of that.

He dragged Harry towards the leaky cauldron and transfigured his dark robes into a proper muggle outfit.

"Why do you do that here but not in Cokeworth?" Harry asked curiously.

"Because I live in Cokeworth and I'd like to be comfortable at my place of residence," came Snape's simple answer. "Besides, many people that live there are dressed peculiarly."

Harry had seen that to be true even though that had mostly been because of poverty. The people were clearly wearing whatever scraps they could find. Suddenly, a thought hit Harry.

"You know, I think I've been to Cokeworth before," he told Snape. The potions master looked down at him curiously.

"What would you have been doing there?" He asked, characteristically raising the one eyebrow.

"I think my uncle took us there to run away from my Hogwarts letter," he explained. "I recognised the hotel when we were walking around earlier."

Snape frowned. It was a foolish thing to try and run away from an official Hogwarts letter. But it also saddened him a bit to know just how much those muggles had tried to keep Harry from his destiny. From his true life.

"Well that was ridiculous of them," Snape simply replied as they walked into a large clothing store. He really hoped that they could find every necessary item in here so they wouldn't have to visit more stores.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Hagrid found me anyways."

Had it been up to Snape, he would have purchased only solid blacks. Black matched with everything, after all, and you couldn't see dirt as easily on black. But Harry would have none of that. Like a tornado he swept through the clothing store, eagerly looking through the racks of items. Snape noticed that every time Harry saw something he liked, the boy would check the price tag first before deciding whether or not to take it. Curious as to what Harry's limit was, he walked over to one such item and checked the price tag.

Suffice to say that Harry wasn't going to find much if he thought eight pounds was too much for a shirt.

"Harry, come over here, please," Snape summoned. Harry obeyed. "Didn't you like this shirt?" Snape sneered at the loud red of the shirt but pushed his own taste to the back of his mind.

"Yes," Harry said doubtfully. "But it's too much."

Snape sighed. "Harry, while I appreciate you looking out for my budget, I would rather you don't. Please pick out what you like and I will sift through it myself to see what I do or don't agree with."

With that out of the way, Harry went back to shopping and soon came back with a modest stack of clothing he had tried on. When Snape found none of the items to be ridiculously overpriced, he paid for them before they went on their merry way.

"Maybe we can get something to eat together?" Harry asked hopefully, protectively clutching his new bag of clothes.

"I think not," Snape replied. "We should get back before someone recognises us."

"Why?" Harry replied.

"I'll explain once we're back home," Snape diverted. "Come with me."

Not allowing for any further arguments, Snape stepped back towards the leaky cauldron. They both made their way back to the floo as quickly as possible and were able to reach the house without further incident. Once back in the sitting room, Snape motioned for Harry to sit.

"Harry," he said once Harry had settled into one of the couches. "You are not to tell anyone about our living arrangements."

"Okay – " Harry replied suspiciously. "But why? Is it because your reputation would take a major hit?" he grinned.

"No Harry," Snape said seriously. "Listen, I am putting a lot of trust in you by telling you this. If I ever find out that you told anyone – and that includes Weasley and Granger – about this, not even professor Dumbledore will be able to save you."

Harry swallowed thickly. He wasn't sure that he wanted to know whatever secret Snape was about to confess to. But he just nodded hesitantly.

Snape seemed to consider Harry for a few more seconds, his glance dark and menacing before he shared his deepest secret. "I am a spy for Professor Dumbledore," he admitted. "The Dark Lord believes me to be one of his most faithful servants, and thinks I am actually spying for him."

Harry stared at Snape, eyes wide in disbelief. "Does that mean you have –"

Snape lifted the sleeve of his robe to answer Harry's question. The dark mark stood out starkly against Snape's pale skin. Harry frowned at it in mild horror.

"As I am sure even you can understand," He continued. "It would be quite detrimental for my health should the Dark Lord ever find out that you are, in fact, living in my house. Now, I don't care just how much you trust those friends of yours as there are ways for the Dark Lord to extract information. I am not willing for you to take that risk."

"I understand," Harry replied softly, trying to process that dangerous lump of information. Snape eyed him carefully.

"It's quite alright, Harry," he said. "As long as you and I don't tell a soul, he will never find out about this and you will be safe."

"And you," Harry replied. "You'll be safe too, right?"

"As safe as I was before I went to get you," Snape answered dismissively. Harry narrowed his eyes at the response. He wasn't stupid. He knew what that meant. He decided not to press the matter, though.

"Do you have any questions?" Snape asked, his eyes piercing Harry's.

"No, Sir," Harry said honestly. His mind was still reeling.

"Okay, let us drop the matter then," Snape said, getting up from his seat. "Put your clothes away and get started on your homework."

"Okay," Harry said softly, grabbing his bag. He moved to go up the stairs when he stopped and turned around. "Oh, and Severus," Snape looked up from the book he had already flipped open. "Thank you for the clothes. I love them." He smiled happily at Snape before hopping up the stairs, two steps at a time, leaving a slightly amused Snape behind.

* * *

Harry was cursing inwardly as he looked over his transfiguration essay. Snape had seriously done a number on it. Harry's gaze fell on comments like '_Did you make this up?_' and '_Don't be a complete dunderhead_'. But there were also helpful comments such as '_You could expand a bit more on this subject_' and '_Try to paraphrase this because it seems like you took it straight from the book'_.

Harry shook his head at the comments before flipping open his transfiguration book and restarting his essay.

Harry didn't know how long he had actually been working when he noticed that it was getting dark out. With a final flourish of his quill, he finished up his essay on the different headmasters of Hogwarts through the ages for 'History of Magic' and closed his book with a heavy thud. He was done. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and decided to go tell Snape that he was finished.

While he was walking down the stairs, he heard a pained grunt. Frowning, he stalked into the sitting room where he saw Snape clutching his left arm, gritting his teeth in agony. When he noticed Harry standing there, he steeled his expression.

"Harry, I have to go for a little while," he grumbled. "Stay inside and wait for me. I probably won't be long."

"Where are you going?" Harry asked, knowing full well what the answer was.

"Don't ask questions, Harry, just do as I say," Snape admonished. And with a crackle and a pop, the potions master was gone, leaving a slightly frazzled Harry behind, his essays clutched in his hand.

* * *

When Snape returned to his house, it was later than he had anticipated. The Dark Lord had divulged a plan in regards to picking up an item in the department of mysteries. What that was he hadn't shared and that irked Snape tremendously.

Harry wasn't exactly mentioned. The Dark Lord had asked Snape if Harry was still at the Dursleys and had taken his word for it at his confirmation. Snape felt a bit concerned that he wasn't kept in the loop while Lucius Malfoy clearly was but he decided not to dwell on it. Surely, the Dark Lord would need to establish which of his followers were still truly faithful. Snape would feed him some valuable information that would not cause too much harm in being shared. And soon, he would be trusted once again.

He took off his mask as he slouched down into his chair when his eyes fell on the sleeping form of his new charge. He was sprawled onto the couch, his head resting on his arm. A bunch of papers lay strewn across the floor as if they had fallen from Harry's outstretched hand. Silent as a cat, Snape picked up the papers. He allowed his eyes to roam over the essays Harry had written that day and smiled. Now, this was far better. He glanced back over to Harry and took a deep breath. Why was he still here? Had he even eaten dinner yet? Casting a quick Lumos, Snape came to the realisation that it was already 8:30.

Stretching his aching joints, he walked into another room before summoning his house-elf.

"Zippy," he called quietly. With a pop, the elf appeared in front of Snape. She opened her mouth to speak but before she could utter a word, Snape held up his hand.

"Harry is sleeping, Zippy, please remain silent," Snape explained. "Has he eaten yet?"

Zippy shook her head.

"Could you please prepare a light meal for both of us?" Snape asked.

Zippy happily nodded and disappeared with another pop.

Snape went to sit at the dining table, reading over Harry's potions essay. Occasionally he glanced towards the sleeping boy but kept on reading when he found Harry hadn't stirred in the slightest. This essay was actually as it should be. Snape himself would not have approached it any differently. True, his wording would have been far more eloquent but he wasn't exactly teaching an English class, was he? He wasn't surprised at the result. Harry had shown considerably more progress since last year. Snape sighed when he remembered how Lily had also shown talent when it came to potions.

Snape's musings were suddenly disturbed by a pair of bowls appearing on the table, as well as two spoons. The bowls were filled with a cream of tomato soup. Snape nodded approvingly and went over to Harry to wake him.

"Harry," he called out. The boy woke with a start as if he hadn't been in a very deep sleep.

"Severus!" he called out, almost as if he was happy to see him. "You're back."

Snape arched an eyebrow. "Did I not tell you I would be?" he said flatly.

"Well yeah, but you took a while and I-" Harry frowned at what he was about to say. "Never mind. Welcome back."

"Zippy prepared soup," Snape said. "Please come and eat a bowl with me."

Harry had to admit that he was fairly hungry so he eagerly followed the potions master to the dining table. When he sat down, he saw that Snape had taken possession of his essays.

"Are they any better?" Harry asked. He scooped up some soup on his spoon and started blowing at the hot liquid.

"Most are acceptable," Snape drawled. "Except for your potions essay."

Harry's face fell. "What's wrong with it?"

"Aside from definite proof of your limited vocabulary, I found no faults," Snape replied. "It is quite easily an Outstanding essay. Well done."

Harry's eyes lit up once more. He grabbed his bowl with both hands and put it against his lips to slurp at his soup.

"Merlin, Harry, have you no manners?" Snape asked in mock horror.

"Nope!" Harry admitted, taking another gulp.

"Brat," Snape growled. But Harry did notice a gleeful twinkle in his eyes.

"Dunderhead," Harry snickered, putting his empty bowl back down. Perhaps this summer wouldn't be too bad after all.

* * *

_I decided to throw a fast update your way since you have all been so kind, reviewing so abundantly._

_I hope you all liked it. I personally love the opportunity to write about Snape and Harry without outside interference by other characters. So I might linger here for a tad longer. _

_If you find the time, please leave me a review. Thank you._

**Last revised on 18/05/2020**


	18. Chapter 18

_Prepare yourselves for a chapter filled with action and angst. Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Your messages made me giddy and eager to keep on writing. So here's your update!_

* * *

**Chapter 18**

Harry was slouched down unceremoniously on the couch in the sitting room. Snape was somewhere in his lab, brewing a dangerous potion so he hadn't allowed Harry to help. And Harry was bored out of his mind. There was absolutely nothing to do in this house. He wished he could go flying but since this was a muggle town, he knew he couldn't do that without a visit from some ministry official.

He groaned as he got up from his seat.

"Zippy," he called. Zippy popped into reality in front of Harry's nose in response.

"Young master Harry," she greeted. She had begun calling him master just a few days ago, much to Harry's dismay. "How may I help you?"

"I'm going out for a bit," Harry said. "Could you tell Severus if he asks where I am? I won't be going outside of the wards or anything."

"Will do, young master!" She exclaimed gleefully before disappearing again with a playful spin.

Satisfied that Snape would probably not hold it against him if he went out, he closed the door behind him. It was another beautiful summer day. Too much so for being locked up in the house anyway. Harry roamed through the town a bit, waving at some people he had come to know over the last couple of days.

"Alright, Harry?" Harry turned his head towards the familiar voice.

"Hi Alex," he greeted. Alex was squatting while painting a fence in a bright white colour. Harry had come to know him as the town handyman. He did any job you could throw at him eagerly. If he didn't know how to do something, he would learn how to. Harry could definitely respect someone like that.

"What are you up to, today?" Alex asked, dipping his paintbrush into his can.

"I'm trying to find something fun to do," Harry sighed exasperatedly.

"Oh dear, a bit bored at old Sevvie's house are you?" Alex grinned. He wiped his brow, accidentally applying some paint on his face. Harry chuckled.

"Very," he replied. "I don't think he's ever had a kid around before."

"I've certainly never seen him with one," Alex said, his eyes looking upward as if in thought. "I always thought he repelled children naturally."

Harry laughed, "Do you need any help with that, Alex?"

"No Harry, but thank you," Alex said, painting the fence with even strokes. "I'm almost done here anyway. Go, be a kid." He flung his brush at Harry for emphasis, droplets of white paint landing in Harry's hair.

"Hey!" He chuckled. "I'll get you for that!" And he ran away before Alex could get to him again, hearing the man chuckle in his wake.

After a few seconds, Harry slowed back down to a walking pace as he explored more of the gritty town. He stayed within the wards as instructed when his eyes fell on the Railview Hotel. This is where he and the Dursleys had stayed many years ago. And he had still received several letters from Hogwarts there. Harry chuckled. It was a good thing that Snape hadn't delivered the letter personally. He had been so close after all.

Harry wanted to continue his stroll when his blood turned to ice at hearing a familiar shrill voice. "There used to be several stores right here, Vernon but even those have gone away. Ugh, just look at this horrid place."

"We'll just have to grin and bear it, Dear," another voice, this time deep and angry said. "After what that freak has put us through we – "

The sudden pause alerted Harry to the fact that he was probably spotted. He turned around only to come face to face with the three people he hated more than anything in the world. Well, except maybe for Voldemort.

"Boy!" Vernon shouted. "What in the devil are you doing here?"

Vernon looked positively enraged. His face was a deep red and his eyes were almost bulging out of their sockets. Petunia, on the other hand, was completely white, her lips pursed together as if keeping herself from saying anything. Fear was obvious in her eyes. The odd one out, though, was Dudley. He had a calm yet forlorn expression on his face. His eyes were staring into the distance in Harry's direction. When Harry looked closer he could even detect some weight loss on his cousin. Every now and then Dudley's mouth would open but no sound came out. It was clear to Harry that something had happened.

"Come here, boy!" Vernon commanded, pointing his finger to the portion of dilapidated road right in front of him. Even if Harry had wanted to obey, he could not. The Dursleys stood on the other side of the wards and Harry was not going to endanger himself or Snape like that. So he just shook his head and took a step back.

"Do you even realize what you've done to Dudley?" Vernon yelled, taking a few menacing steps towards Harry.

"I didn't do anything, I wasn't even there," Harry responded calmer than he should have been. He was suspecting that this was all a dream anyway. He dreamt about the Dursleys often enough and there was no way that they would be coming here.

"Dudley almost died because of you, you horrible freak!" Petunia now screeched, grabbing her Duddykins and pulling him close to her. Dudley didn't respond.

"What happened?" Harry asked exasperatedly, wishing to defend himself against the ridiculous accusations. He also couldn't help but feel just a twinge of worry for his cousin, despite everything. He didn't act like himself at all.

Petunia sobbed loudly. "When he could still speak about it, he told us everything," she cried. "He suddenly started feeling very cold. He told us that all of his happiness was taken away from him and he hasn't gotten it back anymore. He's scared. He's scared because of freaks like you!" She pointed an accusing finger towards Harry who furrowed his brow in response. "He has nightmares every night. He barely eats anymore and he doesn't go out with his friends any longer. We had to flee our home because of you!"

"Sounds like a dementor to me," Harry said, frowning. That did it. This was definitely a nightmare. his subconscious would always blend his two worlds when creating its fictions. A dementor would never actually attack a muggle. That was preposterous.

Harry's conviction that he was dreaming was shattered when Vernon's fist collided with Harry's face and pain exploded from his jaw. He stumbled backwards, catching himself from falling and looked back up at his uncle, surprise and tears in his eyes.

"So you _did_ set this thing on Dudley,' Vernon growled. "You hurt my only son!"

"I didn't, I swear!" Harry pleaded. What was he doing? He should just run back to Snape. He turned around to get himself out of the situation but before he could even take a single step, Vernon grabbed him by the collar and pulled him roughly towards the ground. Harry landed on his back and looked up just in time to see Vernon's foot connect harshly with his abdomen. Harry screamed in pain.

"I don't think so boy," Vernon growled. Madness was swirling in his eyes. He didn't even seem to care that they were out in the open where everyone would be able to see them. "If you don't fix my son this instant, I _will_ kill you." Harry knew just by looking at his uncle that he wasn't kidding. He tried to speak but could only sputter some inaudible sounds through the blood that had filled his mouth.

Determination filled the boy once more. He had to get away. Snape would help him. He had someone he could turn to now. Harry nodded his agreement to Vernon. His uncle growled and pulled Harry to his feet, holding on tightly to his arm and dragging him towards Dudley. This was not what Harry had envisioned at all. He couldn't leave the wards. He struggled and even started punching and clawing at Vernon's hand but this only rewarded him with a firm smack on his already agonizing jaw. Harry saw stars and for a moment, ceased his struggling.

He knew that he had breached the wards. For a second, he wondered if death eaters would suddenly make an appearance but none came. Vernon shoved Harry towards Dudley and watched him with his arms crossed. When Harry stood in front of Dudley, he looked into his eyes but found no response. He knew that there was nothing he could do for him, even if he had his wand but he had to get away. He started circling Dudley as if trying to analyse the situation. He calculated the best possible position he could be in to start running. When he was ready, he ran. He dodged his uncle and ran past him, back towards the wards when pain exploded in his stomach, right where Vernon had kicked him earlier. He stumbled and tried to regain his momentum when he once again was grabbed around the wrist.

"You are a worthless freak," Vernon growled. His voice was quiet and calm which made it all the more horrifying. "You have brought nothing but misery and shame to my family. You and your lot took my son from me." Harry couldn't help but feel guilty when he recalled all the times the Dursleys had been affected negatively because of magic. No wonder they hated it so much. Hated him. Vernon wrapped a meaty hand around Harry's neck, while the other still had a hold of Harry's arm. When Harry looked up at his uncle, he recognized grief in his eyes. Grief for his son. "Perhaps our troubles will finally be over once you're dead." Harry felt his hand tighten around his throat. He knew it was all over.

From out of nowhere a fist connected with Vernon's nose, blood spurting every which way. Reflexively, he let go of Harry, causing the boy to drop to the ground. Vernon had no time to recover because a second punch already connected to his chin.

"Get away from him!" A familiar voice shouted. Harry looked up in surprise to see Alex standing in front of him, shielding him from his uncle. White paint splatters adorned his hands clenched tightly into fists.

"Who do you think you are?" Vernon yelled while his wife was screeching somewhere behind him.

"Me?" Alex shouted incredulously. "Who do _you_ think you are? What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"It's none of your business!" Vernon shouted, scrambling back to his feet. "He's _my_ nephew so stay out of it."

"Oh, and that makes it okay, does it?" Alex yelled. "Being related does _not_ give you the right to beat up a child!"

"You don't know what he's done!" Vernon defended himself. Alex could not contain himself and punched Vernon on the side of his head.

"How do _you_ like it?" he screamed, completely beside himself.

Harry could not fathom what he was seeing. He already established that this was not a dream but here he was, once again attacked by his dear family; Dudley affected by a dementor and a man that was still very much a stranger defending him. Harry tried to get up again, struggling against the trembling in his limbs when he felt a strong hand on his shoulder.

Harry flinched momentarily but looked up to meet Snape's woeful gaze. "Stay down Harry," he said, distress evident in his voice. When Harry made no more attempt to get up, Snape walked towards the two fighting muggles in which Alex clearly had the upper hand and whipped out his wand. Harry gasped, knowing full well that Alex was not aware of the existence of wizards.

Snape didn't seem to care about that one bit, though. With one harsh flick of his wand, Vernon flew backwards and tumbled quite a few times as he hit the ground. Snape did not relent and walked towards Vernon with a swift and steady gait, his fist clenched tightly around his wand. Magic seemed to crackle all around him, his hair moving slightly in a wind that wasn't there. The windows in the neighbouring houses started to crack dangerously. The former death eater ignored the pleas of Petunia who was trying to grasp at Snape's cloak to stop him but was unable to do so. When she tried to block him by standing in his way he just flicked her aside with a sharp movement of his head, throwing her as if she were a ragdoll.

Vernon was starting to right himself when Snape flicked his wand again causing Vernon to fly to the left and land against a brick wall. Harry winced as he saw the man connect, landing in a pitiful heap after the collision. The windows that had already started cracking now shattered, glass raining down on the scene beneath them. Snape's eyes held a darkness that Harry had never before seen in his life. He glared towards the pathetic heap of muggle that quivered on the ground, practically grovelling at his feet when he raised his wand one final time.

"Severus, no!" Harry managed to shout despite his bruised throat and swollen jaw. Snape snapped his gaze towards Harry, deep seething rage never more clear than in that exact moment.

"Please don't," Harry pleaded, couching up some blood in the progress. This only seemed to anger Snape more. His hand clenched so tightly around his wand that Harry thought it might snap. Snape didn't move just yet though.

Harry struggled to get to his feet and when he managed, he took a few quavering steps towards Snape. Alex was still standing there in apparent shock, not sure what to make of the situation. His knuckles were bloody and he too had been on the receiving end of some of the violence. Harry threw him an encouraging smile before proceeding carefully towards Snape.

"Harry," the dark man said, his voice stark and cold. "Stay down."

Harry knew better than to disobey the man. Especially at that moment, it was clear as day that he should not interfere with him. But if he let him be, he would end up in Azkaban. And Harry could not let that happen. Not for him. He wasn't worth it.

A few pained tears escaped him as he continued to stumble towards Snape who lowered his wand as worry started to overshadow the darkness in his eyes. Harry stumbled and would have fallen if Snape hadn't rushed forward at that moment to catch him.

"Don't kill him," Harry begged, his voice hoarse as Snape lowered him to the ground. "It's not worth it,"

"Stay awake, Harry," Snape said unexpectedly. Harry noticed to his surprise that he was, in fact, dozing off. His eyelids too heavy to keep open.

"I'm tired, Severus," Harry whispered.

"Stay awake," Snape tried again but to no avail. Harry lost himself once more in the familiar darkness.

* * *

Snape gritted his teeth in anger when he saw Harry fade into unconsciousness. How could this have happened here, on his watch with the boy under his care? Once more he stalked towards Vernon Dursley who was still cowering on the ground. Snape was at least somewhat satisfied to see him bloodied and bruised. No doubt, some bones were broken. But it was not enough. Nothing would ever be enough to show these muggles just how wrong they were.

"Up," Snape growled dangerously. Vernon obeyed albeit with some difficulty.

"Don't kill him, please!" Petunia's voice begged somewhere in the background. Snape was aware of the sound but did not register its meaning just yet. He was completely focused on the disgrace before him.

"Listen to me carefully, scum," Snape said darkly. "Utter a word and I will kill you. Try to run and I will kill you. Do you understand?" Vernon nodded frantically.

"Good," Snape purred. Venom laced his voice. "Not only have you dared to harm a child – a _child_ – while he was in your care but now you dare to come here, chasing him as he tries his best to get away from the pitiful human beings you are only to abuse him once more. Not only that but you had every intention to end his life." Snape took a deep breath trying to calm himself before he ended up killing the muggle after all.

"And yet, you are alive only by _his_ grace. If he had not just begged for mercy on _your_ behalf, you would be disintegrated at this moment. And believe me, when I say that I will not hesitate to still go through with this desire should Harry ever ask me to." Snape dug the tip of his wand deep into the rolls of fat that were Vernon's neck.

"If you ever dare to come near him again, so help me, you will suffer through many hours of unimaginable agony before I finally allow you to die. Nod if you understand."

Vernon nodded his fearful compliance.

Snape turned to Petunia next, who was still sitting where he had thrown her earlier, her foot bent in an unnatural position. '_Good'_, Snape thought to himself.

"Petunia," he said in a sickly sweet voice as he bent over her, his shadow engulfing her trembling form. "I have not forgotten about you. Oh no, you are as much to blame as that disgusting husband of yours." His eyes bore into hers with unimaginable hatred as she shot worried glances toward her husband.

"You have betrayed and shamed your sister. The sister you once loved – no, don't even argue with me, I've seen you two together before you knew she was magical. You allowed your jealousy to turn into hatred and you lashed out at an innocent child."

Snape sighed deeply. "You know Petunia, I still have half a mind to kill you both. It's taking me every ounce of willpower I possess to stop myself from doing so."

A short but shrill shriek escaped Petunia's lips before she could stop herself. She slapped both of her hands in front of her mouth when she saw Snape's annoyed grimace.

Snape waved his wand over his hand when a snake appeared out of nowhere. He gently draped it around Petunia's neck, smirking as he did so. "Shriek one more time and this snake will bite you. Do you understand?" Petunia nodded, tears streaming down her face. She dared not remove her hands.

"As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, Petunia, I would rather see you dead than risk you coming after Harry again." he glanced over his shoulder to see that Alex was looking after Harry, cradling his limp form.

"You may praise your lucky stars that your husband was interrupted by Alexander there. I do feel that you still need to be punished though," he tapped his chin with his wand, as if in deep thought. He glanced towards the third Dursley that hadn't moved a muscle yet. The boy was surely acting odd. Snape walked over to him and poked him with his wand. Of course, this would do nothing but it upset Petunia, and that alone was enough to provoke a smirk out of Snape.

"Even less eloquent than Potter, I see," Snape sneered. He recognised what was wrong immediately and sighed.

"I have decided," Snape said, turning towards Petunia and Vernon – who was crawling towards his wife – with a swish of his robes. He banished the snake that was actually not even poisonous and smirked.

"Good luck. If you ever make it back to England, you may try and contact professor Dumbledore in regards to your son," He swished his wand one more time and the two older Dursleys had vanished. Only Snape knew where they were but it would remain his happy little secret for now. As for Dudley, he saw no choice but to send for help. He was still a child, after all, who had gone through something terrible. But Harry was Snape's first priority so someone else could deal with the oversized muggle.

Snape shoved Dudley into an abandoned house and summoned a silvery doe to go get Dumbledore. Let the old fool deal with this. It was about time he did something about all of this anyway.

Snape walked towards his charge, held by Alex and stopped when the man flinched.

"What _are_ you?" Alex asked, terror in his voice.

"I'm a wizard," Snape replied curtly. "How is he?"

Alex paused for a moment and looked down at Harry again. "I don't know Severus, I'm no doctor. He's been groaning and he's still breathing. I can't say anything else."

"Alexander, I want to thank you," Snape said honestly. He extended his hand toward the blond who smiled and took it. Snape carefully pulled him upright and when the man stood, the foul potions master did something he never imagined he would do with a muggle or anyone for that matter. He embraced him.

"Thank you so much for saving him," He repeated with an unsteady voice.

After a short moment, he felt Alex hug him back, "Don't worry about it, Severus," he said. "But you're going to need to do a lot of explaining. I mean, I-"

"Obliviate."

* * *

_So this chapter is shorter again - Well, it's about the size of the first chapters - but I really wanted to end it here. I think this is my best chapter yet but I would love to hear your opinions._

_So please review if you can find the time._

**Last revised on 18/05/2020**


	19. Chapter 19

_Here is another update for you lot! Thanks for taking the time to review. I always appreciate it._

* * *

**Chapter 19**

Snape was walking back to his home in Spinner's End, a particularly dark expression on his face. In his arms, he was carrying the limp body of Harry Potter whose face was a bruised and bloody mess. When Snape glanced down and saw the marks around Harry's neck, a new wave of anger came over him. He occluded quickly to keep himself from showing anything more than stoicism.

When he had been alerted that Harry had breached his wards, he had been furious with the boy. He had known very well what his restrictions were and Snape had been so kind to ward a reasonably large area. But still, Potter just had to go beyond as a typical Gryffindor would.

"_He will be writing 10.000 lines_!" He had told Zippy furiously.

Snape sighed as he looked down at Harry once again. When he had arrived at the scene, it had been a lot to take in. The first thing he had noticed was the fight between the two muggles. It hadn't taken him very long to recognize the Dursleys and when he had seen Harry, struggling to get on his feet while obviously very hurt, it all made sense. Snape would only admit to himself that his heart had stung painfully, feeling as if someone was clenching it tightly. Not used to caring about someone for a long time, his pain had transformed into rage within a second and the results had been obvious.

And sure, perhaps Snape had gone a bit far when he had tried to alleviate himself of that rage but it had been very satisfying. Snape smirked to himself. He was sure he wouldn't see those blasted muggles again. And more importantly, neither would Harry.

"Severus?" a quiet voice startled Snape momentarily. He stopped walking and looked for the umpteenth time at the boy in his arms. He met those green eyes he had loved for so long and regretted the pain and confusion he saw in them.

"Glad you could join us in the land of the living, Harry," Snape said trying his best to sound casual. Harry started fidgeting, clearly uncomfortable being so close to his Professor.

"I can walk, sir," he said, ripping his gaze away from Snape.

"I highly doubt that, Harry," Snape snorted. Harry huffed and furrowed his brow.

"Please put me down!"

Snape rolled his eyes and carefully did as the boy requested. Well, demanded more like it, but for this once, Snape would allow it. Harry didn't stand very steadily, and he looked as if he would collapse at any moment.

"Do you understand now that you are not capable of walking?" Snape said with a sneer. Harry simply glared in his direction and took a few proud but wobbly steps. Snape sighed and followed, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like _Gryffindors_.

Harry pretended not to hear that, focusing on his walking. "What happened to Alex?" Harry asked, realizing full well that the man had seen everything.

"I obliviated him," Snape responded coldly. Harry looked up at him in shock.

"You did what?" He asked, his tone admonishing. Snape raised an eyebrow.

"What is the problem _now_, Potter?" he sneered. "Surely you understand that a muggle is not to know of magic."

"I know," Harry admitted. "but that seems so harsh. When Lockhart accidentally obliviated himself, he went mental."

"I think I see your problem," Snape said with an amused smirk. "Lockhart did quite a number on himself because the wand he used was broken. Surely you knew this." Harry just shrugged.

"Quite eloquent of you, Harry," Snape reprimanded. "But let me assure you that when the spell is performed correctly, you can work very precisely."

When Harry seemed even more puzzled than before, Snape rolled his eyes again. "It means that Alexander forgot everything that happened since I arrived at the scene. He will think he was felled by one of your uncle's punches and blacked out. That is all."

Harry nodded, saddened by the mention of his uncle when he almost tripped over a loose cobblestone. Snape caught him easily by his arm.

"Will you still insist on walking?" Snape asked. Harry nodded and Snape sighed exasperatedly.

"Harry, will you please grant me verbal responses at the least?" he practically pleaded.

"Did you kill him?" Harry suddenly asked coldly. Snape regarded the boy for a moment, wondering what answer he actually wanted to hear.

"I did not," he admitted. "But I must admit that I came close."

"I know," Harry replied and he visibly shuddered. "You were so angry."

"I was furious!" Snape confessed. "I was angry at your uncle for treating you as he did, mad at Petunia for just standing there, doing nothing and outraged at myself for allowing you to be dragged into peril once again."

Harry looked at Snape in shock and saw anger and guilt in his normally unreadable eyes.

"It wasn't your fault, Severus," Harry said uneasily.

Snape snorted in response. "I believe it is not you who should be comforting me right now, Harry," he said, glancing down at the boy. He looked awful. He was even more pale than usual and he was stumbling more and more with each step he took.

"Harry," Snape sighed. "Stop being so stubborn and let me carry you."

"No way," Harry chuckled despite feeling so poorly. "Being carried only part of the way was mortifying enough."

"You do realize that pride is a quality belonging to Slytherin, don't you?" Snape said smoothly.

Harry shrugged. "Well, that might be why I was almost sorted into it, I suppose."

"Excuse me, what?" Snape responded, smoothly inserting his arm underneath Harry's in order to give him some more support at least. Harry didn't fight him on it.

"The sorting hat said I would do well in Slytherin," Harry continued. "That it would help me on the way to greatness."

"Why would it say that without sorting you accordingly?" Snape asked curiously.

"I kind of asked it not to," Harry said matter-of-factly. He quickly looked up at Snape to see if he was offended but he saw no signs of it. "So it put me in Gryffindor instead."

"How wonderful for you to have been able to avoid the horror that was Slytherin," Snape sneered,

"Can you imagine? You would not have been able to take points from me," Harry chuckled, holding his side as he did.

"I suppose I would have had to switch with a different head of house in order to still do so," Snape replied smoothly.

"I can see it now!" Harry replied eagerly. "Severus Snape, head of Gryffindor. I think Neville would just transfer to a different school."

Snape snorted, "Perhaps that would _not_ be a wise idea after all. I could always have pulled some strings to have you sorted into a different house though," he added thoughtfully. "In fact, perhaps that is what happened to your sorting in the first place."

Harry looked bewildered, "You didn't!" Snape chuckled and shook his head in disbelief.

"Naïve, believing Gryffindor," he said. "Of course not, you brat."

Harry opened his mouth to reply when he was suddenly hit with a wave of nausea. He wrestled away from Snape's helpful arm and leaned over into a bush to throw up. Doing so was pure agony.

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry said weakly as he wiped his mouth. Snape frowned when he saw the smear of fresh blood on Harry's hand.

"We have to move faster," Snape suddenly said, the urgency clear in his voice. With one smooth movement, he picked up Harry once more who suddenly felt too weak to fight him for it.

"I don't feel so good," he admitted to Snape.

"I know, Harry, hang on," Snape said, trying to not sound too stern. "We're almost home."

"Yes," Harry muttered, smiling weakly. "Home."

Snape all but sprinted to his house. When he finally reached the safe boundary of his own walls, he put Harry down on the couch and whipped out his wand. With a horizontal flick, he pulled up a diagnostic chart in mid-air, his dark eyes swiftly scanning it over.

"As I thought," he mumbled before flicking his wand again, causing several potions to fly over to him.

"I'm going to deplete your stock in no time like this." Harry smiled weakly before coughs erupted from his bruised throat.

"Be quiet," Snape admonished while measuring the liquid in one of the potions he had summoned. He hadn't meant for it to sound harsh but he needed Harry to save his strength. Luckily, the child did not speak again.

"You are suffering from internal bleeding, Harry," Snape said after he was done preparing his potions.

"Vulnera Sanentur," Snape droned three times as he softly waved his wand over Harry's abdomen. Harry felt the pain subside and sighed in relief.

"Drink this," Snape said, holding out a blood replenishing potion. Harry drank it without contest.

"That took care of your worst injuries," Snape informed Harry. "But there are many more, I see. You might indeed need to help me restock my cabinet after this." Snape grinned at Harry who rolled his eyes.

Snape was about to heal Harry's fractured jaw when someone knocked urgently on his door. It was a sound that almost seemed alien. After all, any visits from someone part of the wizarding community would come from the floo. Plus, Snape didn't really have visitors, to begin with. The knocking repeated itself and was even more urgent this time.

"Stay here," Snape ordered Harry. He pocketed his wand but kept a firm grip on it as he opened the door. On the other end stood a frazzled looking Alex, whose eyes were filled with anxiety.

"Severus!" he shouted when Snape opened the door. "I think someone took Harry!"

Snape mentally scolded himself. Of course, Alex would have no recollection of what happened to Harry. For all he knew, the boy had been kidnapped.

"There was a man that said he was Harry's uncle, but Severus, he attacked the boy. I tried to fight him off but –"

"Calm down, Alexander," Snape said calmly as he raised his hand. "Harry is here."

"I came across Harry's uncle as he was taking him away," Snape lied proficiently. "I managed to fight off the brute and brought Harry inside."

"Oh," was Alex's curt reply. He looked a little lost and averted his gaze to his shoes. Snape considered the man for a few seconds, feeling just a tad guilty for leaving him unconscious on the street. Harry had been his first priority though. Alex's knuckles were bloody and he had some nasty bruises on his face. Snape sighed, inwardly cursing himself for what he was about to say.

"Care to come in Alexander?" He asked flatly, hoping the man would decline. "I can take care of your hands if you wish."

Alex's eyes lit up for some reason, "I always knew you were a good bloke, Sev," he said appreciatively.

"Severus," Snape corrected. "Wait outside for a few seconds," he said before closing the door in Alex's face.

"Zippy," he called. The house-elf popped in immediately. "I will be inviting a muggle inside the premises for a short while. Do not show yourself while he is here, understood?"

"Yes, master Snape," Zippy replied before popping away. Snape opened the door again where Alex was still waiting, grinning sheepishly.

"Cleaned up your dirty underwear?" He asked. Snape stared at him darkly while Alex was smiling at him innocently, not at all fazed by Snape's malevolent demeanour. Eventually, Snape stepped aside and allowed the muggle entry. '_What am I doing_?' he asked inwardly. Though he had to admit that he _was_ grateful to the man. Without him, Harry might have been dead.

He guided Alex to the sitting room, making sure that he did not peek into any room he was not supposed to see.

"Harry!" Alex exclaimed when he saw the young boy sitting uncomfortably on the couch.

"Alex," Harry replied hoarsely in surprise. He glanced over towards Snape who glanced back exasperatedly.

"How are you?" Alex asked, eying Harry up and down. "Don't answer that. You look horrible!"

"Thanks for the heads up, Alex," Harry groaned, rolling his eyes. "As if you look any better yourself."

"Oh, but I do," Alex grinned. "Even on my worst day, I am the most handsome man in this town. No offence, Severus."

Snape snorted as he was rummaging through his cabinet, looking for some murtlap essence and bandages. Harry and Alex chuckled.

"But really, Harry, are you feeling alright?" Alex asked again.

"Severus has some medical knowledge," Harry said carefully. "I already feel a lot better."

"Yeah, he's quite the magician," Alex replied in amazement. Soon, his face fell again. "I'm sorry that a relative of yours would behave like that, Harry. He deserves to be in jail."

"Oh, don't worry, justice is being served," Severus said coldly as he put a bowl in front of Alex.

"Your soup looks extremely disgusting, Severus," he said in aversion.

"It's for your hands, fool," Snape growled. "Put them in the bowl."

Alex did as he was told and winced at the stinging sensation.

"Act your age," Snape admonished. Alex rolled his eyes, smirking at Harry.

When Snape had stepped outside of the sitting room for a moment, Alex whispered, "Is he always so strict?"

Harry chuckled. "You have no idea."

"I would expect him to at least loosen up in his own house," Alex said.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked in mock surprise. "This _is_ him loosened up."

Alex laughed heartily at that before wincing again because of the murtlap essence. Harry looked at him guiltily. "I'm sorry you got hurt, Alex," he said.

Alex looked at him in astonishment. "You didn't do anything wrong, Harry,"

"If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have gotten into a fight."

"Nonsense!" Alex exclaimed. "I get into fights often! I don't need your help with that." He winked slyly at Harry who grimaced oddly.

"Sure," he said. "But thanks anyway."

"You are very welcome," said Alex sincerely. "Hey, maybe you could try and get me into Snape's good books," he added hopefully.

"Yeah, I'm afraid you're talking to the wrong person about that," Harry shrugged. "He's not that fond of _me_ either."

Alex chuckled. "Please, he loves you. I can tell." Harry frowned and threw a pillow in the direction of the man who dodged it expertly.

"Please refrain from tossing my belongings towards one another," an annoyed voice drawled. Harry looked up to meet the admonishing glare thrown his way.

"Sorry, sir," Harry said sheepishly. Snape was just happy to see Harry look more cheerful, not that he would ever say such a thing out loud.

"Killjoy," murmured Alex. Snape sat across from Alex and held out a hand. "Give me your hand," he commanded. Alex did as he was told and Snape began bandaging it.

"Wow, Sev, you have an exceptionally soft touch – Ow! I didn't mean that as a bad thing!" Snape grinned after he had tightened the bandage a bit too harshly.

"I must have slipped," he sneered. Alex rolled his eyes good-naturedly. Soon, Snape was finished bandaging up both of Alex's hands and handed him a small jar.

"Apply this to the bruises on your face that will no doubt start appearing tomorrow," Snape said.

"Wow, thanks, Sev," Alex said gratefully.

"Severus," Snape corrected exasperatedly.

"How can I ever repay you?" Alex asked. Snape looked at him oddly for a few seconds.

"Honestly, Alexander, you need not worry about that," he ended up saying. "You have done more than enough." He started pushing Alex towards the door. "Now if you don't mind, kindly leave my house. Harry needs his rest."

"Bye Harry!" Alex shouted when Snape had managed to almost push him out.

"Bye Alex!" He heard in response.

When he finally stood outside again, he turned to face Snape. "Bye Sev," he said, grinning like a buffoon. Snape just closed the door and went back inside, chuckling softly.

Once back into the sitting room, he noticed that Harry was fast asleep.

"That was fast," Snape mumbled. He covered Harry in a warm blanket before muttering another spell to heal Harry's broken jaw. He had put it off as long as Alex was around but felt like he needed to do it before going to sleep.

The lack of noise in his sitting room was in stark contrast with the happy chattering that had been going on moments before and Snape hated to admit that he missed it already. No matter though. Harry was chatty enough on his own and tomorrow would be another day.

* * *

It had been several weeks since the Dursley incident and Snape was starting to relax just a bit more when Harry went out. No further incident had happened. Harry went swimming in the river during the hottest days and occasionally he would go fishing with Alex. Snape knew he wanted to fly his broomstick but Harry would just have to understand that that was out of the question. Snape certainly didn't feel like obliviating muggles all summer long.

A few days after he vanished the Dursleys, Snape had gotten a letter from Dumbledore, asking him if he knew where they were. Apparently, they had gone missing. Snape had only smirked at the question and sent a curt reply.

'_I am not aware of their current whereabouts.'_

It was not a complete lie.

Dumbledore had taken Dudley to St Mungo's where he had resided for a few days before being given a clean bill of health. If the Dursleys had gone to Dumbledore from the start, he would have been able to help without a problem. Afterwards, Dudley was sent to live with some aunt of his since his parents had vanished without a trace.

Harry had asked about them once but when he got nothing in return but a fierce glare from Snape, he dropped the issue.

Snape hadn't been summoned by the Dark Lord anymore and Harry had experienced no more nightmares. Snape was starting to enjoy the summer with nothing on his mind but Harry's imminent birthday.

* * *

"Severus," Harry said. Snape looked at him from behind The Daily Prophet, noticing that Harry's breakfast was untouched. He quirked an eyebrow at Harry's hesitancy.

"Why do I get the feeling that you're about to ask me something that will make me want to hex you into oblivion?"

"Because you know me well?" Harry grinned, fidgeting with his napkin.

"Is it a risk you are willing to take, brave Gryffindor?" Snape smirked.

He saw Harry's gaze fixate on Snape's wand that lay at the other end of the room before nodding. "Yes sir."

"Very well," Snape doubled his newspaper and folded his fingers beneath his chin. "Speak."

"Sir, please hear me out because I know what you will say before I'm even finished speaking," Harry started, glancing at Snape who just looked back at him, a calm but curious expression on his face. He arched his eyebrows as if to nudge Harry into speaking more.

"Okay, well, I know we went over this. And I know that you don't want anyone to hear about our arrangement –" Harry glanced up again, expecting Snape to interrupt at this point but continued when he didn't, "but I feel really strongly about telling Ron and Hermione. They are my best friends and I would trust them with my life. I just really want someone to talk to besides you, sir."

Snape waited for a moment to see if Harry was indeed done speaking before clearing his throat. "Have you informed Granger and Weasley about your home life? Do they know even a little bit of what was going on?" he asked cleverly, knowing full well what the answer would be.

"No," Harry replied dejectedly.

"No," Snape repeated. "Yet you claim to trust them with your life. Telling them this secret, though, would also endanger _my_ life, Harry. I trust you understand that much, at least."

"I do," Harry replied. "But they wouldn't tell anyone. Honest!"

"Perhaps not willingly," Snape admitted, "But when pressured, well, you are all still children."

"Then why did you even do it, sir?" Harry asked, defiance clear in his rebellious eyes. "Do you trust _me_ to keep your secret then?"

"Not in the least," Snape admitted. "I took a risk when taking you in. And I would do it again in a heartbeat."

"Right, because everyone has to endanger themselves for the precious boy-who-lived," Harry spat.

"Because I saw a child that was abused by his family," Snape contested. "And I could not let that happen. If it had been Granger, for instance, I would have done the same."

"I don't want to put you at risk, sir," Harry said quietly.

"I believe you missed my point, Harry," Snape sighed. "I can't trust anyone to keep my secret and will do my best to protect it. Helping you has been risky, but it's been my choice. One I would make again without a doubt."

"But why, Sir?" Harry asked, honestly not able to grasp why the Potions Master would even bother.

"Is it that hard to believe I have a heart, Harry?" Snape asked, smirking slightly.

"I thought you had long used it for potions ingredients, Sir," Harry replied innocently, a wide grin spreading on his lips.

"Only a portion of it," Snape replied, grabbing his newspaper once more. "Now eat your food. You need to fatten up."

"Yes sir," Harry said, hastily shovelling the food in his mouth.

"Charming," Snape sneered as he slickly turned a page.

* * *

Harry opened his eyes expectantly. It was July 31st. Today he would finally turn 15. He smiled to himself as he sat up in his bed. He took his photo album that he had placed neatly on his nightstand and opened it to a picture of his mum and dad waving at him while on some sort of carnival ride.

"Another year has passed, Mum, Dad," Harry said, smiling. "And I'm doing much better. I'm staying with Snape at the moment. And you know what, he's really not that bad. It's too bad he won't let me tell anyone else that, though."

His parents just smiled and looked at him, their eyes not really looking into his but rather in the distance.

"I miss you so much," Harry said softly. "I know that's silly because I don't really remember you or anything, but I do." Harry glanced at the pictures for a few more minutes before closing the book with a sigh. He steeled himself somewhat and put on his clothes. Clothes of which he was still very surprised that they actually fit him. Smiling gratefully, he bolted loudly down the stairs, taking two to three steps at a time and completely jumping the last part.

Harry skidded to a halt in front of the kitchen where Snape was sitting, as if waiting for him.

"You are energetic today," Snape commented, sipping his tea.

"Well yeah!" Harry exclaimed. "It's my birthday!"

"Oh is it now?" Snape asked, barely hiding a smirk. "Are you quite sure?"

Harry chuckled. "I think I know my own birthday, Severus,"

"Hm, well, if you're sure," Snape said thoughtfully before throwing something towards Harry. Being the youngest seeker of the century gave him reflexes good enough to capture it. It was unmistakably a present.

"Sir?" Harry asked uncertainly. "What is –"

"Honestly Potter, even my first-year dunderheads know what a present is when it nearly hits them in the head," Snape smirked. "Happy birthday."

Harry stood there looking amazed when he finally grinned widely and sat cross-legged on a chair, unwrapping his present with all the patience of a two-year-old. In the box, he found a miniature quidditch player, roughly the size of a large cat that flew on its own. It seemed to be egging Harry on to come fly with it. Harry looked at the little man curiously before Snape spoke up.

"It's a Zig-Zag-Zoom," Snape said plainly, clearly unhappy with pronouncing such a ridiculous name. "When prompted, it will start flying, dispelling colourful rings as it moves. The purpose is to follow it through those rings without missing one. If you're not fast enough, the ring will disappear. The better you get, the more challenging it will become for you."

Harry stared at his present in awe. He had never heard of one before but now that he had it, he knew he was going to love it.

"The other Quidditch players are going to be so jealous!" Harry exclaimed gleefully. "Thank you so much, Severus!" Harry made a move as if he was about to embrace Snape but seemed to decide against it at the last moment and just shook his hand. Snape had noticed but did not comment. Instead, he summoned his house-elf.

"Zippy, could you come here, please?" He asked. Zippy responded immediately to the call but spun to face Harry first.

"The best of birthdays, young master Harry!" she exclaimed in a sing-song voice.

"Thanks, Zippy," Harry said gratefully. "Look what Severus got me!"

"Master Snape thought long and hard, young master," Zippy shared. "He even – "

"That's enough, Zippy," Snape interrupted hurriedly. "Please prepare breakfast. Get whatever it is that Harry would like."

Zippy looked at Harry expectantly as he thought.

"Pancakes," He finally decided and Zippy disappeared with a wink and a giggle.

"Now, did you have any plans for the day?" Snape asked casually.

"No sir," Harry admitted as he was playing with his Zig-Zag-Zoom that was performing death-defying stunts on his little Firebolt.

"Would you mind accompanying me for a bit after dinner then?" Snape asked while reading one of his potions books with mild interest. "I have some errands to run."

"Of course!" Harry said, over the moon that Snape had even remembered his birthday. He was just a tad saddened that his friends hadn't seemed to have gotten him anything. On the other hand, perhaps their owls simply hadn't been able to find him here, with Snape's wards and everything.

His mind stopped its incessant whirring when a plate filled with pancakes popped in front of him. Snape just got a plate with some toast and eggs. He didn't have much of a sweet tooth, after all.

Harry ate the pancakes gratefully but was unable to finish his plate. Zippy didn't seem to mind, though, and vanished the leftovers without a second thought.

"That was amazing," Harry sighed, still enjoying the aftertaste of the maple syrup. "Zippy is quite the cook."

"Among other things," Snape agreed. "Now are you ready to go or do you need a moment to digest your food?"

Harry grinned, "I'll be fine," he said. "Let's go, Severus."

"Follow me then," Snape said as he walked towards his fireplace with Harry in tow. He took some floo powder in his hand before glancing at Harry, "Do try not to fall on your face, Harry. As a matter of fact, just take hold of my arm."

"I can do it by myself," Harry protested.

Snape groaned slightly. "Come on Harry, don't be a brat. And take your Zig-Zag-Zoom with you." Harry frowned but did as he was told. He grabbed Snape's arm, feeling very much like a child when Snape yelled, "Severus Snape's office, Hogwarts." loud and clear.

* * *

If Harry hadn't been holding onto Snape's arm, he would have crashed headfirst into the mantle when he emerged from the green flames. And even so, Snape still had to grab him with his free arm to steady the boy.

"So elegant," Snape commented dryly before letting go.

Harry sneered at the Potions Master before taking in his surroundings. "Why are we at Hogwarts, sir?"

"As I said, I have some errands to run, potions to brew, colleagues to startle with my loathsome presence. You know how it goes." Harry just stared at him incredulously.

"Your Firebolt is over there," Snape said pointing to his desk where Harry's Firebolt was indeed waiting for him. When had Snape taken it here? Harry hadn't even noticed it disappear.

"Why don't you go and fly somewhat while I do my work," Snape proposed. "And remember. Should you run into anyone, you and I absolutely despise each other."

Harry laughed loudly while running off. Snape could be such a git sometimes.

It didn't take Harry too long to find his way out of the dungeons and through the main gate of the castle. By now, he knew most of the castle like the back of his hand. The Marauders Map had surely helped with that as well.

As soon as Harry stepped outside, he mounted his broom and started flying towards the Quidditch Pitch, his Zig-Zag-Zoom in tow, keeping up very well with its owner. It had been so long since Harry had taken flight, he was absolutely ecstatic. He loved the feeling of the wind in his hair and the sun on his face. His Firebolt flew effortlessly and reacted to the slightest touch. It was as good as ever.

When Harry neared the Quidditch pitch, he frowned slightly when he saw that several people were already there. His frown turned into a wide grin when he saw who the intruders were. The Weasley family was present on the pitch, several of them on broomsticks. Fred and George were twirling around each other and in between the quidditch poles while Ron was attempting to perform some of the easier Quidditch manoeuvres.

Hermione was on the ground, talking with Ginny and Mrs Weasley while Arthur seemed to be in deep conversation with Sirius and Remus.

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed happily as he as the first to notice him coming. Harry landed smoothly on the pitch as did Ron and the twins.

"Happy birthday Harry," the twins chanted in unison.

"Yeah, happy birthday, mate," Ron added, grinning from ear to ear.

Hermione rushed over to give Harry a warm hug. "Harry, happy birthday," she said brightly. "You look well," she added almost in surprise.

"Yeah, I've been having a pretty good summer," Harry said.

"Brilliant idea, mate-" Fred said.

"To have your party – "George added.

"At Hogwarts-"

"On the Quidditch pitch!"

"Yeah, Harry, it was nice of professor Dumbledore to allow it," Hermione said happily.

"Harry dear, you look like you're doing well," Mrs. Weasley said kindly, engulfing Harry in a motherly hug that ended sooner than Harry would have liked. "Thank you so much for inviting us, dear."

"No problem Mrs Weasley," Harry said sheepishly. He felt a bit guilty for taking the credit but he knew that this was how Snape would want it.

"'Arry, there you are!" another familiar voice called out. Harry turned to see a certain half-giant come his way. "I saw you fly over my house earlier," he explained. "Sorry I'm a tad late."

"You're right on time, Hagrid," Harry smiled.

"Harry, is that a Zig-Zag-Zoom?" Ron asked suddenly, his eyes wide with wonder.

"Yes, it is!" Harry said proudly.

"Who gave it to you, mate? These things are very expensive," Ron said incredulously as he poked the device.

"An anonymous friend," Harry shrugged.

"Did you name it yet, Harry?" Ginny asked.

"Name it?"

"Well yeah, it's easier to call it to do things if you have a name for it," Ginny explained.

Harry considered this for a second. "I guess I'll call it Lynch, for the seeker of the Irish national team," Harry decided. Lynch made a few loop de loops in response.

* * *

Snape was watching the festivities from the castle, leaning on the balcony overlooking the Quidditch pitch, a fire whiskey in his hand. He watched Harry mingle with his friends, noticed how Mrs Weasley was fawning over him like always and was pleased to see Harry take to the sky with his friends, testing out his new Zig-Zag-Zoom.

"Severus, my boy," A familiar voice disturbed Snape's peaceful thoughts.

"Albus," Snape greeted without looking away.

"May I ask why you are all the way up here instead of down there?" Dumbledore asked. "Surely you're not having fun this way."

"It would look rather odd for Harry's most hated professor to attend his birthday party, don't you think?" Snape asked snidely. "Also, I don't do _fun_."

Dumbledore chuckled. "You worry far too much, Severus," he said. "Must you be so secretive about your relationship with – Harry was it you called him now?" Snape frowned at his slip up. He would have to watch that when school began again.

"You know I have to, Albus," Snape replied, leaning on his forearms as he watched Mrs Weasley cut into the birthday cake.

"Not if you stopped spying, Severus," Albus replied smartly.

"Stop dreaming, you old coot," Snape sighed, rolling his eyes. "You know as well as I do that I can't stop now. You need me."

"That I do, my boy," Dumbledore acknowledged. "But now, so does Harry."

"The sooner Black has been cleared of all charges, the better," Snape replied, "When he has, _Potter_ can go live with _him,_" Snape said flatly.

"Is that what you want, Severus?" Albus asked, smiling kindly.

"My wishes are of no consequence," Snape replied.

Dumbledore looked at him kindly, "That's what you always say, my boy. And I daresay I don't agree."

"Whether or not you agree is of no consequence either, Albus," Snape growled, losing his patience.

"Perhaps not," Dumbledore agreed. "But I would at least like to see you happy,"

Snape snorted. "I'm fine, Albus."

"Indeed you are," the powerful wizard responded sadly.

Dumbledore stood there regarding the party for a few minutes, silence stretching between the two wizards as light and dark co-existed naturally. Eventually, though, he started walking away.

"I'll be at the party if you need me, Severus," Dumbledore said before disappearing around the bend of the hallway.

"Meddling old codger," Snape mumbled. He heard Dumbledore chuckle in the distance.

Before long, Dumbledore had made a flashing appearance at Harry's party, surrounded by fireworks and silly sound effects. Snape rolled his eyes at the ridiculous performance that he would have noticed even from the astronomy tower. After a few more minutes he heard a loud pop to his left and chuckled softly when he found a plate with a piece of birthday cake on it. That old man would never change.

* * *

Snape was in his office, trying to look busy when Harry walked in.

"Did you have fun?" Snape asked, his eyes roaming over the birthday presents stacked messily in Harry's arms.

"It was the best birthday ever!" Harry exclaimed. Snape couldn't help but chuckle at Harry's gleeful expression.

"I am pleased that it was Acceptable," Snape said.

"Outstanding!" Harry corrected.

"I am done with my errands, if you're ready to return," Snape said casually, flicking his wand to clear the mess he had made for absolutely no good reason.

"Let me relieve you of your burden." He added after considering Harry for a moment, flicking his wand to have the multitude of presents float over to him. "You have trouble enough travelling through the floo with your hands free."

Harry rolled his eyes but didn't object. "Thank you, sir," He just said.

Snape nodded curtly and threw a handful of floo powder in the hearth. "Spinner's end," he called before stepping through with Harry by his side and a bunch of presents floating in their direct vicinity.

Harry managed to stay upright this time but started coughing heavily as he stepped out of the fireplace. When Snape stepped out as well, he looked at the boy with an incredulous look on his face.

"How did you manage to get covered in soot?" He asked.

Harry eyed his professor suspiciously, "How did you manage _not_ to?" came his equally surprised reply.

"When will you understand that I am a powerful wizard, Harry?" Snape asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Sure, _That_ must be it," Harry said sarcastically, "the floo network is clearly not meant for those of us inferior to the likes of you."

"Indeed," Snape grinned before levitating Harry's gifts to the table in the sitting room. "I do hope you didn't receive too many sweets." Snape frowned when he saw the familiar box of every flavour beans.

"Don't worry, I'll share," Harry said sweetly. Snape watched as Harry sorted through his pile of goods. He had received several books, no doubt courtesy of Granger, a pair of severely Gryffindorian socks which just screamed 'Dumbledore'. The Quidditch books that Harry stacked on top of the pile were probably from the Weasleys.

"What's this for?" Snape asked curiously as he picked up a pair of red-rimmed glasses.

"Sirius gave it to me," Harry said, stuffing his face with a chocolate frog. "They're for Quidditch. Apparently, they protect against all sorts of weather. I won't be hindered by the sun, snow, rain or whatever anymore. And they correct my eyesight as well!" Harry said happily. Snape nodded. Damn, another advantage for the star of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

"It's too bad that you weren't there, sir," Harry said as he flipped open one of his books, "It was fun."

"And I assure you it would have been decidedly less fun should I have chosen to be present," Snape replied coldly. "Don't forget our agreement."

"You mean your rule. I never agreed," Harry said, shrugging somewhat. When Snape shot him a particularly nasty glare, Harry quickly added, "But it's a rule I'll follow, sir. Don't worry."

"See to it that you do." Snape said, "If you forget, I always have many cauldrons to cleanse."

"Yeah, sometimes I wonder if you just mess them up on purpose to have students scrub them," Harry chuckled, "There is no way for you to keep finding more cauldrons to clean."

"Perhaps I am in contact with other schools," Snape replied starkly, "They send their cauldrons to me whenever I have a particularly nasty bunch of students."

"Wow," Harry replied. "Those poor owls."

Snape rolled his eyes in amusement. "Gryffindors," he smirked. "They'll believe anything."

"Hey!" Harry objected, throwing a sugar quill in Snape's direction who caught it expertly.

"Why thank you, Harry," he said before opening it and nibbling its tip.

"Sir?" Harry said after reading for a while.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Thank you," Harry said shyly. "for everything and for today I mean. You really didn't have to but it – well – it meant a lot."

Snape regarded the boy for a moment. He was still the same Gryffindor who liked to break the rules, who was fawned over by his fans and professors alike and who always got himself into impossibly dangerous situations without facing any consequences. So why had Snape gone to such lengths for the boy today?

He saw himself in Harry. He had, ever since he realized the truth about the boy's family. And he had come to realize that Harry was not so much arrogant as he was self-reliant. He was definitely not a bully like his father was and while always on the receiving end of attention, it was not something he wished for.

Snape's assessment of the boy had been wrong and since having him here, Snape had grown accustomed to him. He had even started to like having his company albeit in small doses. But now that Harry was sitting there, thanking him, Snape couldn't suppress the feeling that just maybe, Harry liked it here too.

"You are very welcome, Harry," he finally said, "It was my pleasure."

* * *

_Well, this chapter kind of got away from me. I kept writing, not finding a good place to stop so it kind of got long. I'm sure no one will mind that, though._

_Might I kindly request you send a review my way? I'd like to hear your thoughts, ideas, reactions. Anything really. It would make me very happy. We will be going back to Hogwarts soon. Any thoughts on that?_

_ Thanks for reading! (It's not over no, not by a long shot even though this chapter did feel sort of finalized.)_

**Last revised on 18/05/2020**


	20. Chapter 20

_Thank you all so much for your reviews! As always they made me very happy. I tried writing as fast as I could and hope you will enjoy this next chapter as well._

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter**

* * *

**Chapter 20**

"You are so unfair!" Harry yelled. He was breathing heavily, his brow creased in an angry scowl. Fury was visible in his green eyes.

"Do not speak to me like that," Snape growled, "You will treat me with respect or face the consequences," Snape was sick and tired of having this same conversation over and over. Harry wanted to tell his friends where he lived now. Snape didn't think it wise. They kept going in circles about the matter and quite frankly, Snape had had enough.

"You just want me to be isolated from everyone that cares about me!" Harry accused, his trembling hands balled into fists He just felt so angry. How dare Snape keep him from his friends? How dare he tell him what to do?

"This is your last warning, Potter," Snape said darkly, his calm voice laced with his familiar venom. "I suggest that you choose your next words carefully."

"I wish you would just leave me alone!" Harry shouted. "You have no business telling me what I can and can't do! Who do you even think you are?"

Snape's eyes narrowed dangerously. He rose quickly from his chair and took a few menacing strides towards Harry. The boy took a step back, suddenly feeling just a hint of panic, but didn't avert his angry glare.

Snape came to a halt right in front of Harry and bowed down so his face was only inches away from Harry's. "You are an immature, ungrateful child," he said silently. Danger emanated from his tone of voice and any other child would have been cowering in a corner by now.

"You are _way_ out of line, and you _will_ face the consequences."

The defiant look didn't leave Harry's eyes and Snape knew the boy had no intention of listening right now. Nonetheless, he would lay down the law once and for all. "You will go to your room right now. You are to write lines_. I will not disrespect Professor Snape and I will use a normal tone of voice when speaking_. Eight hundred times will suffice."

"And what if I don't?" Harry asked boldly. Snape was slightly taken aback. What had gotten into the child? "If you don't, you will _not_ go to Diagon Alley to get your supplies. You will _not_ meet your friends. I will just order everything by owl."

"You can't do that!" Harry shouted.

"I can and I most certainly will if you don't do as I say right this minute," Snape hissed. He was coming dangerously close to losing his patience. Luckily, Harry chose that moment to huff dramatically and stomp up to his room.

Snape was left downstairs with an angry scowl on his face. He had been far too lenient with the brat. Too bad they weren't already back at Hogwarts. He could've taken so many points for that cheek.

* * *

Harry slammed the door shut behind him and kicked the first thing he set his sights on. His trunk didn't really react when Harry's foot connected with it harshly, but Harry's toe certainly did. Cursing under his breath, Harry jumped around on one foot for a while, cradling the abused toe in his hands.

When the pain had subsided, he angrily pulled out his chair with a viciously loud screech and sat himself down with an indignant plop. He took out some parchment, almost ripping it in the process and started writing.

He had written one sentence which had gone straight through the parchment and into the desk when Harry sighed and dropped his quill, ducking his head. What was he doing? He grasped at his hair, pulling it somewhat in despair.

It was not that he didn't understand Snape's point of view but he felt as if Snape didn't understand _his_. And why did the man have to have the last word? Was it just because he was the adult? That didn't seem fair at all. Harry felt himself get angry all over again and shook his head in an attempt to get rid of the intruding thoughts.

To hell with all this. He opened the window, stepped on his desk and climbed out of his room. Agile like a cat he used the available ledges and rain pipes to safely make his way down. Without a second thought, he began running.

* * *

Snape was clutching at his left arm, gritting his teeth in pain. His dark mark was burning. He was being summoned. With no time to waste, Snape decided to not inform Harry of the summons. The boy would be spending a lot of time writing those lines anyways. He would not dare come down before they were finished. Besides, who knew how irate Harry would get if Snape told him he was about to go see Voldemort.

Snape summoned his cloak and mask, donning them before apparating to whatever location the Dark Lord had seen fit to invite them to this time.

* * *

When Harry reached the river, he picked up a stone and threw it in with all the might he could muster. He breathed heavily as he watched the splash it made before it sank to the bottom.

Harry grimaced and took another stone.

"You're scaring all the fish away, mate."

Harry turned his head abruptly when he heard the voice, coming face to face with Alex who was fishing again.

"Oh, hi Alex," Harry said meekly. "Sorry about the fish."

"They'll come back," Alex said. "They always do. Care to join me?" Alex patted the spot of grassy dirt next to him. Harry stood there hesitantly, shifting his weight between his feet every few seconds. He didn't know if he wanted to talk right now.

"I don't bite," Alex encouraged. "-often."

Harry chuckled and made to sit down next to the blond. "How's Emma?" he asked trying to steer the conversation away from him.

"She finally forgave me for getting into a fight," Alex smiled. "I'm no longer banned to the couch."

"Thank you for not telling anyone why you got into that fight," Harry said, drawing his knees to his chest.

Alex regarded him for a moment."No problem, Harry," Alex said. "But you really shouldn't feel embarrassed about it. It was not your fault."

"Yeah," Harry replied dismissively.

Alex reeled in a small fish and seemed to measure it in his mind before unhooking it and tossing it back.

"Care to tell me what has you so upset, Harry?" Alex asked, rebaiting his hook.

Harry was plucking at the grass he was sitting on, thinking about the annoying potions master that thought he was writing his lines at that moment.

"Snape just gets to me," Harry said.

Alex raised an eyebrow, "Snape is it now?" he said in surprise. "He must've really riled you up."

"He's… trying to tell me that I can't trust my friends," Harry said angrily, trying his best not to divulge too much information. "There's something I want to tell them. Something important. And Snape says I can't."

Alex frowned. "Well, Severus is quite fond of his secrets. What aren't you allowed to say?"

Harry sighed. "Just the fact that I'm living with him now."

"That seems like a very minor thing to want to keep secret," Alex said. "Did he tell you why?"

Harry nodded.

"Was it a good reason?" Alex asked, sensing that he wouldn't find out the reason himself.

Harry seemed to think it over for a few seconds before nodding reluctantly.

"Why are you upset with him than?" Alex queried.

Harry spluttered as he tried to explain. "I just feel like he doesn't take me into account at all. Like he doesn't care how I feel, you know?"

Alex chuckled somewhat. "Severus is a tough nut to crack, for sure. But he's not nearly as scary as he seems. He does care. He just doesn't like showing it."

* * *

Snape could smell the damp earth beneath him as he bowed his head before the Dark Lord. He sat on one knee as only one of the many death eaters forming half a circle in front of the evil snake that had dared to be resurrected.

"My loyal followers," Voldemort purred. "It is nice to have you all return to me on such short notice, as always."

A few masked men grunted a response but Snape kept silent, his eyes fixed on a worm squirming in the soil in front of him.

"I do wonder what news you have for me," Voldemort said, petting his snake.

"Rise!" he then ordered and everyone got to their feet as elegantly and swiftly as they could, trying to appease their lord.

"Severus, what news do you have on the boy?" Voldemort hissed, his eyes boring into Snape's. They were dark and calculating. Snape occluded to the best of his abilities and kept his expression neutral, even though it was hidden by a mask.

"He is still with his family," Snape replied calmly. "Dumbledore thought it unwise to have him visit his friends this year because of your glorious return, my Lord."

"Are you quite certain, Severus?" Voldemort asked. Severus felt his chest tighten ever so slightly. Did he know?

"Yes, my Lord," Snape replied as sure and respectfully as he could.

"But you see, Severus, I received conflicting information from Bellatrix," Voldemort said smoothly. Snape glanced at Lestrange who leaned against Voldemort's throne, giggling to herself about something. Snape thought it best to keep his mouth shut for now.

"She has shown me a muggle paper." Voldemort held out the parchment in front of Snape, allowing him to read it.

_**Vanished without a trace. Kidnapped?**_

_On Wednesday morning, Petunia and Vernon Dursley were reported missing, leaving behind Dudley Dursley who is being cared for by his family._

'_They were acting odd' says local, Burt Adams, 'Looking over their shoulder as if-'_

Voldemort tore the paper away from Snape.

"Can you explain to me why you have lied about this, Severus?" Voldemort asked, ice in his voice.

"I assure you, I had no idea, my Lord," Snape replied.

"And yet, you claim to be Dumbledore's confidant," Voldemort said smoothly. "Which of the two have you been lying about, hm?"

"I swear to you, I didn't know," Snape repeated.

"Crucio," Voldemort droned in annoyance.

* * *

Harry hissed when he felt a sharp pain shoot through his scar. Alarmed he looked around, half expecting to see Voldemort rise from the river. But there was nothing suspicious to be found anywhere.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Alex asked worriedly.

"Yes," Harry forced his voice to stay steady. "Just some phantom pains in my scar."

Alex quirked his eyebrow. "Wow, I didn't know that was a thing."

Harry's scar still burned but he kept his hand down, not wanting to raise any more suspicion. "Yes, it happens from time to time."

Harry felt extremely nervous and couldn't help but look over his shoulder every now and then. The anger he had felt before had vanished completely, making room for fear.

"Listen, Alex, I have to go," Harry said.

"Do you need me to take you back to Severus?" Alex asked worriedly. Just how anxious did Harry look to him?

"No, no, I-I'll be fine." Harry turned around briskly and started walking away, "Bye!"

When Harry was sure Alex couldn't see him anymore he broke into a sprint. Was Voldemort close? Did he know where he was? Harry started breathing heavily, partly because he was running and partly because he was scared.

Another sharp pain shot through his scar, inflaming his entire forehead. Harry yelped and stumbled somewhat before regaining his speed and hurrying along.

Harry swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. Like a child, he was running back to Snape. With his anger gone, he finally realized just what a brat he had been. Why had he even said those things?

More pain, worse than he had felt in a long time. It was almost as intense as that time Voldemort had touched him in the graveyard. Harry stumbled again and was unable to catch himself this time. He fell on his hands and knees, panting heavily as sweatdrops slid down his nose.

He squeezed his eyes shut in agony and was engulfed in a change of scenery so vivid, it was as if he was there.

_He saw a body in front of him and was very happy to watch it squirm in anguish. This was what happened to followers who performed inadequately. He looked around his group of loyals and was pleased to know that they too would have gotten the warning._

"_Up," he said in a voice that was not his own and glared at the infuriatingly neutral face of Severus. Could nothing break the man?_

"_Find out the whereabouts of Harry Potter. And do not fail me again, Severus," he hissed, anger clear in his tone of voice. He was pleased to see Severus flinch. He would not fail him again. _

Harry opened his eyes again and noticed his breath was stuck in this throat. This time, all-engulfing panic overtook him. What had he just seen? Had it been real? He got to his feet again, his legs weak but he ignored their trembling and ran once more. He ran faster than he ever had and before long he stood in front of the house.

While he had been able to climb out of his window very easily, he had not thought his actions through properly because he had no way of getting back up there. Well, if what he had seen was a dream, the worst that could happen was Harry getting into trouble. And if it had been real – well – he would think about that later.

Harry knocked on the door. No response. He knocked again, louder and more rapidly this time. Still nothing. Harry's heart was beating so fast, he was scared it was going to explode.

He knew Zippy wouldn't open up. She was never to open a door because it was always possible for a muggle to be knocking. But Snape should be there. He _had_ to be there.

Harry pounded on the door without stopping now. This brought back memories of when the Dursleys had locked him outside of their house. But this was different. Snape would _never_ do such a thing. Was he hurt? Was he... No, this couldn't be happening.

"Severus!" Harry shouted, banging as hard as he could. His hands were starting to feel numb but he couldn't think of anything else to do. He knew he couldn't break a window. Those were protected.

"Zippy, open this door!" he tried, but again to no avail. Tears were pricking in the corners of his eyes. He was about to give up when the door swung open so unexpectedly and brusque that Harry stumbled forward a bit.

His eyes wide, he looked up to finally see that admonishing glare of his potions master.

"And what in the world are you doing outside?" he asked his tone as cold and harsh as always and Harry could not have been happier. He rubbed at his eyes with his sleeve before stepping inside.

"Sir, I-," Harry started when he noticed several things that were off. Snape was clenching his fist so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His skin was far paler than usual and was that blood on his sleeve? When Snape walked he didn't 'glide' as smoothly as he usually did, though it would have been hard to miss by anyone who didn't know him. And worst of all, Harry detected a tremor in Snape that he recognised from when he, himself, had been subjected to the Cruciatus curse.

"It was real," Harry whispered.

"Harry, are you going to respect me enough to answer my question, or do you need some extra encouragement?" Snape barked angrily.

"Sir, are you alright?" Harry asked concern present thickly in his voice.

Snape seemed taken aback and furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?" He asked slowly, his gaze calculating.

"I saw him," Harry said, rubbing his scar unconsciously. "He told you to find me. He tortured you."

Harry's gaze fell to Snape's trembling hand which the potions master quickly hid behind his back.

"How?" he hissed angrily. "How did you see that?"

"I don't know sir," Harry said honestly. "I was talking to Alex when my scar started hurting again. I hurried back here when I suddenly saw and f-felt everything _he_ did."

Harry's gaze met Snape's again. "Are you okay, sir?"

Snape's face went even paler than it already was, if that was even possible. He stood frozen in place for a while before walking to his sitting room with a frazzled Harry in tow.

"Zippy," he called as he sat down. "Bring me my usual potions." The house-elf did as she was told in a much more quiet and calm demeanour than usual. Harry kept his mouth shut while Snape downed several potions in quick succession, finally relaxing somewhat when he was done.

"Harry," Snape suddenly said, his clear dark gaze boring into Harry's. "Tell me exactly what you saw, heard, felt. Anything."

Harry told him everything he remembered, down to what appeared to be Voldemort's' own internal dialogue. Snape listened intently while Harry told his story, occasionally interrupting to ask a clarifying question. When Harry was done, he stared intently at his folded hands, waiting for Snape to speak.

"It would appear that you have some sort of mental connection to the Dark Lord," Snape explained. "I will have to discuss this with professor Dumbledore to figure out what needs to be done." his gaze softened considerably. "Don't worry, Harry. It will be alright."

"No, it won't!" Harry objected. "He's going to hurt you if you don't tell him where I am. Even more than he did today." Harry ducked his head and ran his fingers through his wild hair.

"I have always been aware of the dangers that my chosen profession entails, Harry," Snape said casually. "Besides, I am always prepared."

Harry's gaze fell once more on Snape's slightly trembling hand and immense sadness overcame him.

"Why do people have to get hurt for my sake?" he asked softly. "It's not fair."

"It is not," Snape agreed. "None of this is fair on you. But I assure you that I do far more than just protect you, Harry. If it wasn't for you, I would still be spying. The information I am able to attain like this is far too valuable."

Harry nodded his understanding. "But you still got hurt."

"That too is a regular occurrence," Snape explained. "The Dark Lord likes to make a show of how he is all-powerful and will not hesitate to punish his followers."

"He's mental," Harry stated.

"Indeed," Snape sighed.

"What are you going to tell him, when he summons you back?" Harry asked.

"It depends on _when_ he does just that," Snape said. "But I will most likely spin a lie of how you have been brought into the custody of the Order."

"The Order?" Harry repeated.

"The Order of the Phoenix. It's a society formed with just one goal in mind," Snape explained. "And that is to defeat Voldemort. Since he has come back, the order has been resuscitated."

"Oh," Harry said.

"Indeed," Snape responded when his glower darkened and he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees to peer into Harry's eyes. "What were you doing outside?"

Harry's own gaze hardened somewhat. "I climbed out of my window."

"You climbed out of your window," Snape repeated slowly. "How many more times must you prove to me just what a dunderhead you are?" He growled.

"I was upset!" Harry said.

"And you suppose that's a viable defence for your antics?" Snape asked.

"No," Harry said, hunching his shoulders.

"At least you have some sense in you." Snape said. " As for your trip to Diagon Alley, it is hereby cancelled."

"Sir, please –"

"You were deliberately insubordinate," Snape interrupted. "And I will hear no more of it lest I find other ways to punish you. Now go upstairs and write those lines and don't you _dare_ sneak out again."

Harry looked as if he was about to object, but one last glare from Snape made sure that he didn't. For the second time that day, he stomped upstairs and slammed his door behind him.

"Zippy," Snape called out tiredly.

"Yes, Master Snape?" Zippy said carefully, fidgeting somewhat.

"Please keep an eye on Harry. Make sure he does not leave his room except for meals and to use the bathroom until his lines are done."

"Yes, sir," Zippy said agreeably before disappearing and no doubt reappearing in Harry's room.

Snape released a deep sigh and cracked his neck. His entire body was aching. The pain reliever took care of the worst of it but it couldn't exactly cure the sensation of being hit with the cruciatus curse multiple times. And on top of that, he had an insubordinate brat to take care of.

Suffice to say Snape had been shocked when he heard someone practically breaking his door down after he apparated back. He had been even more shocked when he found out it had been Harry.

And now he found out that the boy had some sort of link to the Dark Lord. This could not bode well for either of them.

Soon, school would be back in session and there would be others looking out for the boy. He would be able to go back to being the famous dungeon bat he was.

He was really starting to look forward to it too.

* * *

_Okay, so we stayed in Spinner's End a tad longer than I had anticipated. Starting from the next chapter, we will be going back to Hogwarts._

_Please do review and share your thoughts with me. Cookies for all who do!_

**Last revised on 03/07/2020**


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

_You silly people crack me up with your reviews sometimes. Thank you so much for your feedback, wit, and enthusiasm. They keep me going!_

* * *

Harry sat in the Hogwarts Express with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. He was still very upset that he hadn't been able to go to Diagon Alley. The only time he had seen his friends was at his birthday party, which he _guessed_ he should be grateful for if he was entirely honest. That didn't give Snape a pardon to ruin the rest of his life, though.

Those eight hundred lines were far from the last he had written over the summer. Harry found it increasingly difficult to keep his mouth shut when Snape was acting up again. It was a tendency he needed to work on, and quickly, lest he cost his house hundreds of points.

"Harry, you're already here!" a familiar voice sounded. Harry turned his head to see Hermione waltz into his compartment, a couple of books lodged firmly under her arm, "Ron, here he is!" she called out somewhere to her right. It didn't take long for the familiar redhead to force himself into the compartment as well, claiming the seat next to Hermione.

"Alright, Harry?" Ron greeted. Harry's scowl had cleared right up at the appearance of his friends and was now replaced with a big, toothy grin.

"Yeah, you?" Harry answered amicably.

"'Course!" Ron replied. "Harry your birthday party was amazing!"

"It really was," Hermione chimed in. "Too bad it was the only time we got to see you."

"Yeah, where were you, mate?" Ron frowned. "I thought we had agreed to meet up in Diagon Alley?"

Harry shrugged. "I was punished," he admitted.

Ron snorted, "What for?"

"For climbing out of my window," Harry said as neutrally as he could. So far he had not lied.

Hermione sighed at the revelation. "Well that does sound pretty irresponsible of – hang on, does this mean you didn't get your books?" The look of absolute horror on her face made Harry laugh. Hermione quickly pursed her lips together as if to indicate that she was not amused.

"I got them," Harry revealed after he had calmed down. "I ordered them by owl." He shared a glance with Ron, causing both boys to erupt into laughter once more.

"Oh, honestly," Hermione chided. "You would think you boys would have grown up somewhat over the years."

"But I have, Hermione," Ron said, winking at her. "Look how much taller than you I've become."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "Yes, Ronald, that is exactly what I meant."  
Harry did not miss the blush that crept on her face in response to Ron's winking.

"So what have _you_ been up to over the summer?" Harry asked curiously.

"Well, you know, we did _things_," Hermione dodged. Harry eyed her suspiciously.

"What _things_?" he asked but Hermione just shrugged.

Harry felt unwarranted anger come over him and he just glared at his friends, trying his best not to blow up over nothing.

"Oh, come on 'Mione," Ron chided. "We hung around the Order's headquarters for a large part, Harry."

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed. "Dumbledore told us not to tell!"

"Oh, did he now?" Harry asked through gritted teeth, "Is there any particular reason why you would keep this a secret? It's not like the Order is there specifically to go after the man who killed my parents and is now trying to kill me too!" Harry's voice became increasing louder the longer he spoke and near the end of the sentence, he was yelling.

"Harry, calm down," Hermione tried, her eyes wide in surprise.

Ron put a hand on his shoulder, "We don't know his reasons, mate. You know he's kind of mental."

Harry sighed, trying to regain control of his emotions. He clenched and unclenched his hands before looking up at his friends again.

"You're right," he said, "Thanks for telling me anyway. Any people I know in the Order?"

Ron looked upwards as if he was thinking about it. He was counting on his fingers as he recollected the people he had seen. "Dumbledore is the founder, of course. Then there was McGonagall, Sirius, Lupin, Tonks, Moody, mum and dad,…" Ron scrunched up his nose as if he was forgetting something. "Oh, and of course that greasy git."

"Snape is a member?" Harry asked incredulously.

"I know, right?!" Ron said loudly. "I know Dumbledore is barmy and all but to trust Snape, well, let's just say that you can bring me to St. Mungo's if I ever share his sentiment."

"Honestly Ronald," Hermione interjected. " He's not that bad. And he's on our side."

"Says he," Ron huffed.

"Says professor Dumbledore," Hermione corrected. "And he knows what he's talking about."

Harry was facing another internal struggle too fierce to be able to deal with his friends' squabbling. Snape had been a part of this Order? He had attended meetings for Merlin knows how long and how regularly. He had been able to see Sirius and Lupin. His friends had been there as well and not once had it occurred to the infuriating man to bring Harry along. He could've coordinated with Dumbledore or something and pretended that Harry had come along with the headmaster.

And yet, Snape had once again chosen to keep him excluded from his own life.

"I need to use the bathroom," Harry mumbled before hastily making his way out of the compartment and slamming the door shut just a tad too loudly.

His hands were balled into fists again but this time Harry didn't care. Snape could be such a horrible git. Harry was sure that if he confronted the man about it later, he would just spin a silky tale about safety and such. The truly frustrating thing was that Snape could easily outtalk Harry. It seemed so unfair but while Harry could think of arguments and protests in his mind, he often found himself unable to voice them when cornered by Snape's icy stare.

Harry went to stand in front of one of the windows that was accessible via the isle. He leaned against the frame of the window and watched how the world passed him by.

"Did you finally get sick of those people you call friends?" a familiar voice sneered. Harry sighed. He was not in the mood for this. Maybe, if he ignored the Slytherin, he would just go away on his own. But he didn't. After a few seconds of aggravating silence, a familiar blond went to stand beside Harry, leaning against the window next to his, his arms crossed.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry sighed. He had not forgotten that Malfoy senior had been among the death eaters present in the graveyard.

Malfoy seemed doubtful for a moment and when he finally spoke, his voice was more gentle than it normally was. "For what it's worth, I don't believe those papers," He said.

Harry frowned at him. "What are you talking about, Malfoy?"

For a fraction of a second, Malfoy seemed confused. But then he donned that same Malfoy mask that his father used as well. "If you don't know, I'm not the one who's going to fill you in, Potter," he sneered. "I just wanted to tell you that I don't buy it. Nor do a lot of people."

"Thanks?" Harry replied, the phrase forming as a question.

Malfoy nodded at him and walked away. He didn't curse, threaten, mock him or anything. Maybe there was hope for the Slytherin yet. That is if his father didn't corrupt him now that Voldemort had returned.

After taking a few more minutes to calm down, Harry decided to return to his friends. They eyed him warily when he sat down across from Ron.

"What?" Harry asked when he felt the tension. But he didn't need to ask. Of course, his friends knew him better than to believe he simply needed to use the bathroom earlier. They read him like an open book.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"What's in the papers about me?" Harry replied to her question with another question. Snape always hated it when he did that.

"Oh no, you don't know yet?" Ron asked, clearly unhappy about the prospect to fill in Harry about whatever horrors would befall him _this_ year.

"I don't. Please just tell me," Harry said curtly. Why couldn't he have asked to borrow Snape's paper after he was done reading it? He had had so many opportunities. Would the man even have complied? Probably not.

"The ministry is calling you a liar," Hermione said softly.

"About what?" Harry wondered aloud.

"They say that You-Know-Who is not really back and – Oh Harry, they say you're making this up for attention." Hermione looked as if she was close to tears but Harry was the one who felt like crying.

"I would never make that up!" Harry said, his voice hoarse. "What do they make of Cedric's death then?"

"They say it was an accident," Ron said softly. "They call it a Quidditch tragedy."

That all-familiar rage swept over Harry once more. How dare they!

"They also say Dumbledore's lying about this," Hermione continued hesitantly. "Because he's advocating for people to be prepared. The ministry is saying that he has an unhealthy obsession with you and will do anything to feed your desire for attention."

Harry stared at her with his mouth agape. "That's ridiculous!"

"Of course it is, Harry," Hermione agreed. "Many people don't believe their lies."

"That means that there are many that do," Harry concluded and Hermione dared not deny that statement.

"Harry," Hermione then said. "There's something else I read about that –" she glanced towards Ron and seemingly decided to not continue her musings. "- Never mind."

The golden trio spent the better part of the train ride in silence, two of them mulling over their own cogitations while the third stared out of the window in absolute boredom.

"Hermione, we should get going," Ron suddenly said softly.

"Yeah," Hermione agreed, rising from her seat.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked. He knew he was not exactly pleasant to be with at that moment but to be abandoned?

"We were made prefects," Hermione said carefully. "And we're expected In the prefects' carriage."

Harry only now noticed the prefects badges that both of his friends were wearing.

"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't notice," he said, genuinely apologetic. "Congratulations!"

"Thank you, mate," Ron said warmly before ushering Hermione with him out of the compartment, leaving Harry all alone.

Well wasn't that just brilliant? Harry faces Voldemort time and time again, wins Quidditch match after Quidditch match and did so much more for the school. But surely, it was a much better idea to make Ron prefect over him. Harry shook his head in disbelieving jealousy and went back to staring out of the window.

"Thanks for your consideration, Dumbledore," he muttered angrily.

* * *

Harry stared at the head table in the great hall with big, unblinking eyes. He didn't know if he should laugh or cry.

Dumbledore had just announced their new DADA teacher for the year - Because experience taught them that she wouldn't last any longer than that – after which the toad-like woman had dared to interrupt the headmaster's speech to give her own speech of sorts.

It was a boring and tedious speech but Hermione had been able to explain its meaning effortlessly. The ministry was interfering with Hogwarts.

When Harry looked at the resident teachers of Hogwarts, he could clearly see the loathing on all of their faces. Snape, in particular, seemed ready to set the lady in pink on fire with a well-placed spell. Even Dumbledore had seemed slightly taken aback by the rude newcomer.

"Maybe she'll be able to teach well, at least?" Harry whispered hopefully.

"Here's to wishful thinking," Ron said, raising his glass of pumpkin juice in a mock toast. Harry clinked his own glass against Ron's and smiled. _You never know._

* * *

He found out soon enough when he found himself bent over his defence book, next to Hermione, doing nothing but reading and taking notes. Eventually, Harry couldn't help himself from speaking up.

"Professor Umbridge, are you saying we're not going to do anything practical this year?" Harry asked incredulously. With Voldemort on the loose, this class was more important than ever.

"You will raise your hand if you have a question," Umbridge chided in that sickeningly sweet voice. She turned her gaze to Harry and just stared at him until Harry complied and raised his hand.

"Yes?" She asked, smiling. Harry repeated his question with much chagrin.

"This study method is approved by the ministry," Umbridge explained. "You will face no danger this way and will most likely not need to visit the infirmary as often as you have in the past."

Harry's hand shot up again. Umbridge glared at him a little before putting on her smile once more, "Yes?"

"But don't we need to be able to protect ourselves against whatever is out there, Professor?"

"Whatever would be out there that wants to hurt children?" Umbridge retorted in disbelief.

"Oh, I don't know, Voldemort, death eaters, you name it," Harry rebutted angrily. Everyone in class gasped at the mention of the name. Some students were throwing Harry angry glares which he returned with twice the ferocity.

"Ten points from Gryffindor," Umbridge said. She turned to face the entire class next. "Now, listen. You have all been told of the return of a certain dark wizard. This. Is. A. Lie."

"It's the truth!" Harry shouted, now standing up, his hands gripping his desk.

"Detention tonight, Mr. Potter," Umbridge said, slightly taken aback. "And I will hear no more of it unless you want to lose even more points."

One glance around class told Harry that he would do best to avoid that scenario. So he just took his seat and picked up his quill once more to continue taking notes while Umbridge continued her class on Kappas.

* * *

"Quite honestly Harry, you were absolutely right," Hermione said once they finished that pitiful excuse for a DADA class.

"Yeah, it's almost as if she _wants_ us to fall prey to You-Know-Who," Ron added incredulously. "How did anyone think this is a good idea?"

"Well, rumour has it that Fudge believes Dumbledore wants to overthrow him," Hermione said. Harry snorted. If Dumbledore had truly wanted Fudge's position, he would have had it by now.

"What has that got to do with our classes?" Ron asked.

"Well, Fudge seems to believe that Dumbledore is training some kind of army."

"Yeah, that makes total sense," Harry grumbled. "Dumbledore is training a bunch of students to fight his battles for him. When was that meeting about invading the ministry again, Hermione?"

"I'm not saying it makes sense, Harry," Hermione frowned. "But it might be a reason for our abysmal classes."

"No one is going to do well on their OWLS this way," Ron groaned.

"And no one will be able to defend themselves," Harry added sadly.

"We'll figure something out, Harry," Hermione said, trying to sound cheerful. "We always do."

Harry smiled at his friend's unwavering optimism but he wasn't so sure. The school year had scarcely begun and he already felt like the world was against him. At least until now, he had always gotten along somewhat with his DADA teachers. Okay, one of them ended up housing Voldemort on the back of his head while another had ended up being a faithful death eater. And that was without counting the one that had almost obliviated him but Harry never had one that didn't even want to teach him the skills he was sure to need soon if his previous school years had been any indication.

Not only that but to be called a liar in front of everyone, for the ministry to actively try to convince people that they were safe when they weren't, well, it hurt Harry deeply. At least some people believed him but having Malfoy believe him – and of course, he did when his father had been there – did not counter the fact that Seamus, for instance, did not.

His own friends were starting to turn against him and Umbridge was not helping.

* * *

Harry was staring at his left hand in shock. He had started writing _'I must not tell lies' _per Umbridge's request but she had not provided him with any ink. When Harry had commented on it she had simply told him he wouldn't need any.

And now it was clear why. His blood was the ink. Umbridge was standing there with fake concern on her face, her head cocked slightly to the side, forged kindness in her eyes.

"Is there something wrong?" She asked sweetly.

Harry stared at her darkly. There was no way he was going to give her the satisfaction. "No."

"That's right," Umbridge responded. "Because deep down, you know that you deserve to be punished."

Harry grit his teeth not only in pain but also in anger. He was told his whole life that he deserved to be punished. He was used to being _disciplined_ for things he hadn't done, including lying. But this time it was worse because he was not the only victim here. Other students would suffer because of the ministry's hard-headed denial. There was no way he was going to stand for it.

With resolve in his eyes, Harry continued writing, not making a sound even though he felt the awful scratches on the back of his hand causing him intense agony. It was as if someone took a small knife to his hand with every stroke of the quill.

But he would not let Umbridge notice that he suffered. He even resisted the urge to shake out his hand as he often did when writing lines for a while. He just focused on his parchment and didn't look up. He must've written hundreds of lines when he finally heard another sound from Umbridge.

"Hem hem."

Harry looked up, anger flashing in his eyes but he kept his mouth shut. Umbridge met his gaze for a few seconds before speaking. "It would appear the message has not quite sunk in, has it?" She questioned. When Harry didn't respond she smiled sweetly, "Do you maintain the lie that You-Know-Who has returned?" Her eyes dared him to say yes. She seemed so sure of what would come out of Harry's mouth next.

"Voldemort _is_ back," Harry said flatly.

Umbridge's eyes widened for a second before narrowing dangerously. "You will serve detention with me tomorrow as well, Mr Potter," she said. "Come to me right after dinner."

Harry didn't dignify her with an answer. He took his things and marched right out the door, ignoring her sickly sweet, "Goodnight Mr. Potter." as he hurried to get back to the Gryffindor Tower.

Before entering, he glanced at his hand. Blood was dripping from the sentence that was scratched into it. He hissed painfully. What was wrong with that woman?

"Rough night?" The fat lady asked, eyeing Harry with a worried glance.

"The same as usual," Harry sighed. "Thestrals."

The fat lady nodded knowingly before swinging open to reveal the Gryffindor common room. Harry smiled when he saw his friends still waiting for him. Ron jumped up first.

"Harry! We thought you weren't going to return anymore," Ron exclaimed. "It's nearly past curfew."

"What did she have you do, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Lines," Harry answered. For a moment, he was wondering if he should even show Ron and Hermione the damage Umbridge had caused but he decided that if he wanted to prove Snape wrong about how trustworthy his friends were, he would need to confide in them. So he held up his left hand.

"Harry!" Hermione hissed. "Did she make you write those lines on your hand?"

"No, I wrote on paper," Harry explained. "But the quill was sort of wonky. While I wrote, it scratched my hand and the lines were written in blood."

"A blood quill," Ron breathed. "That's illegal, mate."

"We should go tell McGonagall right now," Hermione said firmly and she was already on her way out the door.

"No, Hermione," Harry stopped her. "I really don't want to draw any more attention to myself."

"Harry, she is torturing you," Hermione argued.

"They probably can't do anything anyway since she was sent here by the ministry," Harry shrugged. "And I don't want her to know that I complained. She's not worth it."

"Ugh," Ron said. "You know that pride is a Slytherin trait, right?"

Harry chuckled. "Yeah, I've heard that before."

* * *

Harry had stayed up a tad later than he should have to at least get started on his homework. After all, he wouldn't get any of it done in the evening, courtesy of Umbridge. That's why he decided to skip breakfast entirely in order to get a bit more sleep. When he finally woke up, he had to get ready to go to his potions class.

It shouldn't be so bad this year. Snape had been decent to him over the summer and while Harry was very much aware that Snape had to play a part, it helped Harry that he at least knew about it. He was sure that everything would be fine.

Stepping into the classroom, his heart sunk immediately though. Snape was sitting at his desk, the mask of a foul sneer on his face. All of the other students were already there. Harry realized he was cutting it kind of close but he knew that he still had a few minutes to spare.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for your tardiness," Snape said coolly. And when Harry opened his mouth in protest, "Sit down, Potter. I'll have none of your cheek."

Harry glared at him and was met with a warning look so he just took a seat next to Neville since it was the only one left available. His friends threw him apologetic glances over their shoulders. A few Slytherins were snickering to themselves but Harry noticed that Malfoy, at least, had the decency to ignore him completely.

Harry clenched and unclenched the hand with the writing on it. He had cast a glamour on it to keep his recent issues hidden from anyone who didn't have to know. He was not about to draw even more attention to himself.

"Today you will brew the draught of peace," Snape droned in a level voice. "For those of you who have taken the effort to at least read this recipe beforehand, this should not be too much of a challenge even though it is of OWL level." He scanned the room for any signs of complaints or insubordination. When he found none he waved his hand in the general direction of his students. "Instructions are on the board. Begin."

Harry took a deep breath. He knew this one. Snape had made this potion with him over the summer. Several times in fact. He was pretty sure he didn't need the instructions anymore. What he did need to do was to focus on Neville in case the boy would do something to ruin the potion.

"Don't throw all the powdered moonstone in just yet, Neville," Harry said softly when Neville was about to dump in their entire amount. "Split it into three portions first." Neville gratefully did as he was told and Harry continued to guide him throughout the creation of the potion. It wasn't very difficult but there were a lot of steps to it.

Snape walked over a couple of times to sneer at the contents of their cauldron but he said nothing so far.

"Okay, now add the last of the powdered moonstone, Neville," Harry encouraged when the potion turned purple. Neville did so without question. Now they had to wait while it simmered so it could turn orange. So far, so good. Harry glanced over at Snape once more who had his back turned towards the boy. It felt wrong to not be able to talk freely to the man anymore. So much had happened between the two of them and here they were, acting like old enemies. Harry swallowed the painful lump in his throat and turned back towards the potion, now a bright orange.

"Now you add porcupine quills one by one until it turns white. How about you stir while I add," Harry suggested expertly.

"Sure. Thanks, Harry," Neville said appreciatively. Together they got the potion to turn white and next it was time for the final step. Harry spelled the fire a tad lower and grabbed the final ingredient.

"We need exactly seven drops of hellebore," Harry said. "No more, no less. Do you want to do it, or would you rather I do it?"

Neville glanced nervously at Snape who was currently vanishing some poor Gryffindor's potion, deeming it a complete failure. "You do it, Harry," He stammered. "I might ruin it."

Harry did not deny that this might be a possibility. He smiled encouragingly and added the seven drops without fault. Their potion was finished and it was perfect.

Snape stalked over to the two boys who felt rather happy with themselves when he scowled menacingly. "It would appear your potion is adequate," he said silkily. "Yet I couldn't help but overhear your very one-sided conversation, Mr Potter." Snape spat Harry's name with so much disdain that the boy couldn't help but wonder if this version of Snape was, in fact, the real one.

"I was merely trying to help, professor," Harry said blankly.

"And yet, it would appear that you did everything, leaving no effort to be done by Mr. Longbottom," Snape countered smoothly. "Will we never see that faulty brain of you at work, Mr. Longbottom?" He now said, directing his scourge at Neville. "You both receive a failing grade for being unable to treat this as the group effort it is supposed to be." With a swish of his hand he vanished the perfect potion into nothingness after which he walked away with a terribly malicious grin on his face which many of his Slytherins returned. Many, but not all. Harry suppressed the urge to kick his cauldron in anger and just started scrubbing viciously at their work station.

"Foul, greasy git," he muttered under his breath, forgetting for a second about Snape's excellent hearing.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, for your less than innovative insults, Mr Potter," Snape said calmly, turning around with a swish of his robes. "And detention with me tonight."

"I already have detention tonight," Harry said between gritted teeth. The other Gryffindors were looking at him in shock. Some of them couldn't hide what seemed to be disgust and even anger.

"Tomorrow it is," Snape replied, a thin smile on his lips. Harry held Snape's gaze for a few more seconds before looking away. He didn't need any more punishment.

"Sorry, Harry," Neville offered pathetically.

"It's alright, Neville," Harry replied, trying not to sound too upset. "It's not your fault that he hates me."

While everyone was packing up their things, Snape spoke again. "Stay after class Mr. Potter," he droned. Harry rolled his eyes to his friends, with his back turned to Snape but waited obediently as everyone left the classroom. Hermione and Ron were lingering until Snape threw them an eerie glance, hurrying their retreat along.

With a smooth movement of his wand, Snape shut the door with a loud slam, causing Harry to jump and surrounded them with a privacy charm. He then crossed his arms, leaning against his desk. Much of the venom had left his gaze but it still held a lot of residual darkness.

"Sir?" Harry asked, trying to keep his voice void of emotion.

"How are you doing, Harry?" Snape asked. Harry jumped at the mention of his first name accompanied by the seemingly normal question.

"Huh?"

"Eloquent as always," Snape sneered, rolling his eyes. He moved behind his desk to sit in his own chair, motioning for Harry to take the one opposite of it. Harry did not move, however.

"You're being a right git, you know?" Harry accused angrily.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Harry, we discussed how things were going to be," he said bringing his fingertips together in a calculating manner. "Did you forget?"

"No," Harry stammered.

"Harry, it's best that you don't fight me too much on this," Snape continued. "If you give me reason to punish you, I have no choice but to do just that."

"The potion was perfect!" Harry yelled.

"It was." Snape agreed. "Better than any fifth year has ever brewed in my class before."

"Why are you failing me for it then? You know Neville needs the help!" Harry couldn't stop his anger from seeping into his words. Snape regarded him for a moment.

"I have given the both of you a high mark for your potion, Harry," Snape admitted.

"You what?" Harry blinked in surprise. His anger faded into the background of his mind.

"We really need to work on your vocabulary, Harry," Snape said, rolling his eyes. "But yes, you heard me correctly. I just made it seem as if I was failing you in front of your Slytherin counterparts."

"Oh," came Harry's dumb reply. He flexed and unflexed his hurt hand unconsciously.

"What are you doing getting yourself in detentions already?" Snape suddenly asked, throwing Harry a disapproving glare.

"Umbridge gave me detention for lying," Harry growled.

"What was the lie?" Snape asked softly, animosity in his voice. It was clear that he too did not like this woman.

"That Voldemort is back," Harry explained, ignoring the little flinch Snape showed.

"I see," he said. "What is she having you do?"

"Writing lines," Harry shrugged. It was not a lie. Snape didn't need to know anymore for now. He would surely confront the toad-like woman on his behalf and he wasn't the type to go complain to adults about being mistreated.

"Tedious, but I imagine you're used to those by now," Snape said, giving Harry a knowing look. "I imagine it doesn't help to get emotional so easily either," he added.

Harry glared at the potions master. Something he wouldn't have dared a year ago. Snape sighed, not up for another confrontation. He waved Harry towards the door.

"You are dismissed."

"Thank you, sir," Harry said and walked out of the classroom. At least he was reminded of the man Snape had become in his presence. He just needed to keep telling himself to not fall for his pretences for they were not meant for him.

* * *

Harry had tried to stall for as long as he could over dinner. He dreaded going back to Umbridge's kitten laden office, covered in pinks of all kinds. He shuddered to think of the heinous punishment she would surely unleash upon him once more.

And he had been right, of course, to suspect the worst.

"Have you reconsidered yet, Mr Potter?" Asked that sickening voice. Harry met her gaze daringly, fire in his eyes.

"I cannot reconsider the truth, Professor," he said honestly.

Umbridge sighed deeply as if she had to perform a duty she didn't want to. But Harry believed the woman to derive some sick pleasure from this particular punishment.

"In that case, Mr Potter, I am afraid you will be doing some more lines for me," she said, fabricated sorrow in her high pitched voice. Harry had to keep himself from rolling his eyes at her. She would get what was coming to her, no doubt. All DADA teachers did in the end. He smirked to himself, clearly aggravating Umbridge some more and went to take his seat.

Umbridge brought him the same quill Harry had used before and told him resolutely, "The same line as yesterday, Mr. Potter." before she sat behind her own desk and started grading papers.

The hours went by slowly. At some point, Harry wondered truthfully if morning had already come when in actuality only two hours since had passed. Naturally, the sentence on his hand began to worsen considerably. It was as if the deterioration went faster than it did the day before. When Harry glanced over at his hand, he was sickened by the sight.

It was no longer just flesh he saw but he saw yellowish tissue as well as strands of something. For a moment he was happy that he didn't know a lot about anatomy. He was wondering how deep the quill could cut through. He grunted in pain and stopped for a second.

"Have you realized the error of your ways, Mr Potter?" Umbridge smiled sweetly, completely ignoring the bloody mess Harry had made on her desk. Harry stared at Umbridge as if calculating his next move. Why did he even take this sort of torture? He rose from his seat, dropping the quill on the desk.

"Sit down, Mr Potter," Umbridge said darkly. But Harry didn't comply. He slung his book bag over his shoulder and made for the door.

"Well, I suppose it works out well this way," Umbridge suddenly said. "I could fit in someone else, I suppose. Perhaps Ms Granger seeing how she is supporting your lie quite vividly. As for Mr Weasley, well, I'm not sure how the minister will feel about an employee whose son is so clearly supporting this dangerous nonsense."

Harry turned back around with such ferocity that Umbridge took a step back. Her stare didn't falter though.

"How dare you?" Harry growled in a low voice that he almost felt didn't belong to him.

"I am simply protecting the general populace, Mr Potter," Umbridge said, twirling her wand threateningly. "And I will use everything in my power to do so. Now sit down."

Harry had no choice. He hated that Umbridge could use his friends against him like that. He hated that she seemed to have more power over him than he had ever thought. And he hated himself for not wanting to tell a professor about this, knowing full well that he simply didn't want to seem weak. Slytherin pride indeed.

Not saying another word, he sat back down and picked up the bloody quill once more, ignoring the satisfied grin on Umbridge's face. It almost made her look like a creepy Cheshire cat.

* * *

"Harry, this is unacceptable!" Hermione screeched causing some first-year Gryffindors to glance their way.

"Please keep your voice down, Hermione," Harry pleaded. He was exhausted and in too much pain to argue right now. Hermione lowered her voice but continued to hiss at Harry.

"This can't be healed with murtlap essence, Harry," she drew her bottom lip between her teeth. "I know of no spell that could help you."

Harry sighed. He had expected that answer. At the end of his detention, Umbridge had once more asked Harry whether or not he still believed his lie. Harry foolishly refused to admit defeat and was assigned another detention. Lucky for him, he had detention with Snape the next day so Umbridge needed to postpone hers for another day. She had done so huffing like a child but had not dared go against Snape, it would seem.

"She threatened you," Harry confessed silently. "You and Ron's father."

Hermione pursed her lips, frowning as she tried her best to bandage Harry's mess of a hand. "You don't need to worry about me, Harry," she said. "I can take care of myself."

Harry smiled kindly, "I know Hermione," he said. "But you're my friend and I don't want to see you suffer for me."

Hermione looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "You don't need to suffer either, Harry. Just give her what she wants."

Harry shook his head. "I'm not going to lie to everyone. If they're not prepared, more people like Cedric will die."

Hermione didn't speak anymore and Harry could not blame her. What do you say to each other when wrapped in a situation as hopeless as this one? Harry hissed when Hermione brushed past his hand very softly.

"Sorry," she murmured. "Try to get some sleep, Harry. I know it's early but you need some rest."

"I still have to get started on my History of Magic essay," Harry protested.

"I'll write if for you," Hermione said. "Don't worry. I found a spell that can imitate penmanship. Just don't tell Ron."

Harry smiled at her, appreciation clear on his face. "Thanks so much, Hermione."

"Goodnight, Harry," she answered, her voice laced heavily with worry.

* * *

_Umbridge brandished a large whip that she brought down on Harry's back. The lashes spelled out 'I must not tell lies' as she brought it down with perfect accuracy._

_Harry saw people pass as he looked through the window in the classroom. At one point he saw Snape pass by. But the man only stopped briefly, a hint of confusion on his face before he shook his head and kept walking._

_Harry saw his blood mingle with his sweat as it poured onto the ground. When he looked at his arms and legs, he could see those same words etched on every bare piece of skin. _

_He took a shuddering breath when he realized that his breath was a visible white cloud and that he suddenly felt very cold. When he weakly raised his head, he saw a dementor stand in front of him, surrounded by a billowing cloak. The dementor drew closer as Harry heard a woman scream and saw a flash of green light._

* * *

Harry woke up with a scream and noticed that someone was already at his bedside, shaking him by the shoulders. When his eyes came into focus as best they could without his glasses, he could make out the unmistakable red hair of his best friend.

"Harry, Harry, are you alright?" he asked in a panic. Harry realized that he was still screaming and managed to get himself to stop. The other boys in his room all stood idly by, worry etched on their faces.

Harry had not bothered to cast any silencing charms before he went to sleep. He hadn't had a nightmare since that night at Snape's house. A flash of memories flooded him when he remembered how Snape had cradled and soothed him, making everything alright as a parent would. More than the nightmare, and more than his hand it hurt him to his core that this sensation which he had finally come to know, was gone once more. And pure despair overcame him as he buried his face in his hands and started to cry, not caring for one moment what his dormmates would think.

* * *

_And that's that. I made this chapter a tad longer because I feel like a lot of it was fillerish. I tried to not implement too many things that were already in the book but to keep the pace natural I needed to here and there._

_But I'm really happy with the second part of this chapter._

_I hope it's well-received._

_Any reviews are highly appreciated. I promise they make me update quicker as well._

**Last revised on 03/07/2020**


	22. Chapter 22

_Here we go again! All of your reviews gave me the motivation to write as fast as I could. Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 22**

Snape was cutting into a sausage when he noticed Minerva throw what had to be the tenth worried glance towards the Gryffindor table. He hadn't failed to perceive how her gaze always stopped at Harry nor how it lingered for a tad too long before returning to her plate. There was no doubt in his mind that her food was going cold.

"Trouble in Gryffindor paradise, Minerva?" Snape asked smoothly, sipping his cup of tea. He smirked amusedly at her surprised look.

"Ever the observant one, aren't you Severus?" Minerva sighed. She nibbled on her toast somewhat, ignoring Severus' question.

"What trouble did Potter get into now?" Severus tried again, attempting to pry past Minerva's feeble defences.

"Well –" Minerva seemed doubtful about sharing but eventually did so anyway. "Some of my other students came to me to talk about him. They were worried."

Snape raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Apparently, he woke up screaming bloody murder this night," Minerva whispered.

Snape frowned at this. Harry hadn't had nightmares for a long time. None that he knew of anyway. Had it been the return to Hogwarts that had sparked his newfound nightly terrors? He would have to supply the boy with a few portions of dreamless sleep.

"It can happen, I suppose," Snape supplied flatly, putting down his cutlery. "Especially if you are _the chosen one_," Snape spoke the chosen title with as much disdain as his role demanded of him.

"I suppose," Minerva said, her concern obvious. "Apparently, it took a long time to calm him down too."

Snape didn't respond. It started to feel as if he was listening into a conversation between Minerva and someone else. These sorts of things were normally not meant for his ears. He was, after all, the dour potions masters with no heart.

Minerva glanced at him only to find a dark, uncaring gaze directed at her. She rolled her eyes. "Right, sorry for bothering you at all, Severus," she said coldly with a tone that didn't allow for anymore divulging.

Snape glanced over at the Gryffindor table as well, specifically at Harry. He did seem tired and when Snape looked closer he seemed to see agony in those listless eyes. The Weasley kid was throwing him worried glances while Granger tried to converse with him. It looked as if Harry only replied with one-word-answers.

Then, for a moment, Harry glanced towards the teachers' table and met Snape's gaze. Snape steeled himself in order to not show any concern but he did glance at Harry's plate meaningfully. It had not escaped his attention that the boy hadn't eaten yet. Harry smiled dimly in response and grabbed an apple. Better than nothing, Snape supposed.

* * *

Harry was positively mortified. His dormmates had witnessed him during his absolute lowest point. He might not have cared at that moment, overcome with exhaustion and painful emotions, but he did care now.

He hated how they threw him worried glances. That was especially true for Ron, although he, to his credit, didn't seem to have told Hermione yet. If he had, she would be all over him.

"Maybe if you go to Dumbledore, you can get him to cancel your detention with Snape," Ron suggested, probably assuming that he was being helpful.

"Honestly, Ronald," Hermione interjected. "He actually deserved his detention with Snape. If he should complain about anyone, it should be about Umbridge,"

"Sure," Ron shrugged. "Also fine by me."

"I don't want to bother the headmaster whinging about getting too many detentions," Harry sighed. "He has far better things to do. On the subject of Umbridge though, what are _we_ going to do?" Harry expertly tried changing the subject and knew he had done so successfully when he saw Hermione's eyes lit up.

"We thought about it, Harry," she admitted. "While you were in detention. And we were wondering –" she glanced nervously towards Ron who was grinning stupidly, "if maybe you should teach DADA instead."

Harry frowned at her. "Are you going to suggest to Dumbledore that I replace Umbridge?" He asked incredulously. "I don't think he will hire an underage, unqualified teen."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him. "Of course not Harry," she said impatiently, "We will do it in secret. Think about it. You have faced You-Know-Who countless times and lived. You know spells that aren't even on the curriculum. You have far more experience in general than most of our DADA teachers have had in their lives. Probably. You are the perfect choice!"

"Yeah, mate," Ron agreed. "You'll just have to be somewhat patient with the likes of Neville but I can't think of anyone _but_ you to do this."

Harry thought long and hard about this but couldn't think of anyone either. "Fine, say that I agree to this, have you thought about the where and how?"

"Shush," Hermione suddenly said as Malfoy walked past them, a suspicious look on his face. When the blond had passed she answered Harry's question. "Not yet, Harry, but I'll work that out while you get started on a lesson plan."

Harry snorted loudly at that, "When am I going to do that?"

Hermione threw him a calculating look. "Stop getting into trouble for one," she admonished when realisation flooded her eyes. "But while that's all still going on, I will help you," she added, not going over the specifics with Ron there.

Harry had to admit that he had been very grateful for the essay Hermione had written for him. It was better than any he had ever handed in for the subject but he recognized his penmanship and style in it. Hermione could be a very crafty witch when she needed to be.

* * *

It didn't even take a full day before Hermione approached Harry to broach the subject of secret DADA meetings again.

"Look at this," she said, shoving a piece of parchment under his nose. Harry frowned before taking it, his eyes glancing over the few lines scribbled down hastily.

_Seventh floor  
Opposite Barnabas the Barmy and the trolls  
Pace three time while thinking about a room you need_

There was nothing else on there. Harry frowned and looked at Hermione who had an eager glitter in her eyes. "I don't get it, Hermione," he said honestly.

"Well, of course, you don't," Hermione sighed impatiently. "But listen, I tried it out and guess what? I found a hidden room!"

Harry's eyes widened. "That's brilliant, Hermione. How hidden is it?"

"Very!" Hermione said excitedly. "I haven't figured it all out yet but it appears to be a room that appears when you need it. If someone would come looking for you, they wouldn't be able to find it. But those looking for a specific room to, for example, practice spells would find a door where there usually is none."

"Sounds like that would have been very convenient for our potions experiment," Harry said wryly but shoved that thought to the back of his mind really quickly. "But who gave you that information?"

"I don't know," Hermione shrugged. "The parchment was in a book in the library I had been reading from time to time."

Harry frowned at her. "That sounds awfully like a trap."

"It's the best we've got, Harry," Hermione said. "It's probably someone who wants us to fight back."

Harry bit his lip in contemplation but imagined that if Hermione was involved, they would be rather safe. She would, no doubt, invent all sorts of safeguards.

"Okay," he said decidedly. "We've got the teacher. We've got the where. Now we just need the how and the students."

"Already ahead of you," Hermione said gleefully because of course, she was. She showed him some coins that looked like galleons but had a number on them that she could get to change to show a date and time. Harry noted that when it changed, the galleon became hot.

"Brilliant," he said in amazement.

"Thanks, Harry," Hermione said, blushing. "Ron and I are working on the participants. You just keep a hold on that galleon and you will know when we start. I'll show you where the room is later."

After Hermione left for her class of muggle studies, Harry sauntered back towards his common room, enjoying a free period with Ron. If only he didn't have so much homework to catch up on.

* * *

Harry stretched his weary limbs and got up from his evening meal. He had seen many of his peers whispering secretively amongst themselves and throwing glances at not only him but also at Hermione. This occurred amongst select groups of people Harry deemed trustworthy enough so naturally none of the Slytherins behaved oddly. That is, to say, except for Malfoy who was staring menacingly at an innocent piece of chicken on his plate.

It was time for Harry's detention with Snape. He flexed and unflexed his still injured hand a bit, trying to banish the painful stinging sensation that had lingered there all day. Hermione had been right about one thing. The murtlap essence hadn't helped in the slightest.

Weary still from his poor night's rest he meandered towards the dungeons, ignoring the pitying looks his friends gave him. They didn't know, of course, that Harry did not dread this detention at all. He even admitted – albeit only to himself – that he was looking forward to it.

He didn't hesitate in the slightest when he made it in front of Snape's office door. He knocked confidently and waited for the cold "Enter." to open it.

"Professor," Harry greeted cordially before closing the door with a click once more. Snape flourished his wand, no doubt applying privacy charms before facing Harry.

"Sit down, Harry," Snape motioned toward a chair that Harry took gratefully. He slouched down ungracefully when he noticed the Potions Master place a potion in front of him. The colour was unmistakable. Dreamless sleep.

Harry frowned and stared into Snape's cold, unforgiving eyes. "I know you're a spy and all –" Harry began, "But how did you even find out?"

Snape smirked slightly. "Some little birdies are all too eager to sing."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Fine. Keep your secrets."

"Would you like to talk about it?" Snape asked kindly.

Harry felt the wash of sadness swell back over him and shivered slightly. "No, sir," He replied sullenly.

Snape regarded him for a moment but decided not to press the matter. "Alright Harry, but if you ever wish to talk, my door is always open."

Harry smiled at that, keeping his eyes fixed on the potion in front of him. Had Snape brewed it especially for him, he wondered.

"As for your detention," Snape said, throwing Harry a knowing look. "Other little birds informed me that you have had some trouble with your homework."

Harry looked at Snape, eyes wide in surprise. Unconsciously he hid his hurt hand behind his back, afraid that Snape might know about _that_ as well. But he made no comment in that regard.

Snape smirked at Harry's amazed look. "As you said, Harry. I'm good at what I do."

Harry rolled his eyes at the display of mock arrogance. "What about it, sir?" He asked.

"Do your homework now," Snape said. With a wave of his wand, Harry's books appeared, as well as his quill and pages of parchment.

"Sir?" Harry asked incredulously.

"As long as no one's around, Harry, you may still call me Severus," Snape said. "Now get to it."

Harry happily did as he was told. Snape was still looking out for him in some ways at least.

"Thanks, Severus."

* * *

Harry slept much better that night, courtesy of Snape. He had been annoyed by the worried glances his dormmates had shot him as he climbed into his bed and decided that he should go back to casting silencing charms.

But their concern was better than them thinking he was lying about Voldemort so there was that.

Hermione had been amazed that Harry had been able to finish most of his homework and had praised him for it. Harry had not dared mention that he had done it all in the very long detention he had had with Snape which had lasted until near curfew for which his friends had voiced their disagreements wholeheartedly. Not to Snape, though. Never to Snape.

The next day went by in a fast, bland haze for Harry. His hand was hurting even more than it had already done before and while Harry was no healer, he knew it looked bad. But he had definitely experienced far worse. He was worried, however, about the upcoming detention with Umbridge.

And unfortunately for Harry, it came sooner rather than later.

"Maybe I should try to go with you, Harry?" Hermione offered. "She might not have you use a blood quill at all if there are witnesses."

"Or she might make you use one as well," Harry countered. "Do you want '_Curiosity killed the cat'_ on your hand?" Harry shrugged at Hermione's incredulous look. "I don't know what she would have you write."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Fine, Harry. But I still think you should tell a teacher."

"I know, Hermione," Harry dismissed. "How is the list coming along?"

Hermione's eyes perked right up at the mention of the illegal DADA lessons they were going to host. "I think we have a pretty good starting group," she said happily. "We'll be able to begin soon."

"That's good," Harry smiled, happy with the distraction. "See you later."

Hermione stayed behind in the common rooms as Harry stalked out to meet the frilly pink demon that haunted his nightmares.

* * *

"Come in!" Harry wanted to physically injure the foul beast of a woman when he heard the awful sound that was supposed to be her voice. It would probably not be the best idea, though. He steeled his nerves and expression and walked in, the glamour removed from his hand. Maybe if Umbridge saw the damage, she would allow Harry a normal quill this time.

"Welcome, Mr Potter," Umbridge greeted with all the kindness of the whomping willow. Harry remained silent.

"Is there anything you would like to say before we begin?" Umbridge taunted. "No? Very well. Sit right down, Mr Potter."

Harry exhaled heavily as he sat down, staring at the parchment waiting in front of him. Umbridge came over and expected his left hand which lay flatly on the desk. She pursed her lips for a moment before taking the quill away.

Hope filled Harry's eyes in such an obvious fashion that Umbridge grinned maliciously when she saw it.

"Oh dear. No, Mr Potter," she purred. "You _must_ be punished and punished you will be. I do not desire to bring about permanent damage to _any_ student though." She used her wand on the quill and muttered some words too silently for Harry to hear. When she was done, she handed the quill right back to Harry.

"You may begin, dear," she said, smiling sweetly. She didn't move from her spot until Harry started writing. He brought down the quill on the paper with a sense of morbid curiosity when he felt the familiar stinging sensation. He suppressed a groan of pain and frustration when he realized the location had changed. The words were now being written across his stomach.

Umbridge nodded happily when she saw the shift in the expression on Harry's face. "Carry on just like that," she said in a sing-song voice that made Harry want to hex her into oblivion. "That is unless you changed your mind?" Umbridge added hopefully.

Harry glared down at the parchment and continued writing as slowly as he could. He thought he recognised a slightly frustrated huff from Umbridge and allowed himself to revel in that one small victory. If she thought she could break him, she was sadly mistaken. And hey, at least his hand could get some much-needed rest this way.

The new injuries on his stomach were painful though. More so than when they had begun appearing on his hand. Harry wondered what Hermione was going to say about this. Should he even tell her anymore? Nothing good came of it anyway. She only worried more for him and Harry didn't want to do that to her. Ron obviously knew as well but he had not seen the injury after the second detention. And maybe that was for the best.

Many hours went by for the third time that week. It was an impossible standoff between Umbridge and Harry and neither of them wanted to budge. Harry chastised himself in silence. A voice in his head told him once more that he should just give in. He shouldn't play the martyr. Things would be easier if he would just admit defeat. Another voice would counter, though, saying that people would think of him as a sell-out when everything came to light. That Dumbledore and Snape would be disappointed in him and that, inadvertently, he would put more people at risk.

The second voice always won from the first one.

And so, Umbridge was once again forced to allow Harry to go back to his dormitories when it was almost time for curfew. Her smile was completely gone and she seemed less than happy which invigorated Harry once more.

"Unfortunately I need to return to the ministry for the weekend," Umbridge said tiredly. "So I won't be able to extend your detention to tomorrow. You will see me again on Monday. Straight after dinner."

Harry narrowed his eyes, gave a curt nod to show that he understood and walked right out of her office. When he had almost rounded the bend of the hallway, he could hear something shatter near Umbridge. Harry grinned like a madman. She was getting frustrated with him and was no good at hiding it. He was winning this battle. All he had to do, was hang on for just one or two more detentions. He was sure of it.

* * *

Hermione inspected the nasty wound on Harry's hand with her brow furrowed.

"It's good that she didn't have you use the blood quill today, Harry," she murmured, "I think that would have caused some permanent damage. Nonetheless -" she added, "You should really go to Madame Pomfrey."

Harry rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time that day. Why did everything annoy him so much?

"Hermione, I can't very well show her," he argued. "It's not just a wound. There are words on my hand."

"Good," Hermione argued. "All the more proof for that vile woman to get fired."

"No," Harry said, shaking his head. "I have almost won. I could tell."

"And what will you win in this battle of wills, Harry James Potter?" Hermione chided.

"The truth," Harry said, the smile on his face not in the least bit convincing.

"Lay off him, Hermione," Ron chimed in, his mouth full of Every-Flavour-Beans. "A man's honour is at stake here."

Hermione made a disgusted noise. "Fine Harry, have it your way. But if she uses that quill one more time, I am going straight to Dumbledore."

Harry was glad that he hadn't told her about the modified quill.

"Can we have our first meeting on Saturday?" Harry asked suddenly. He was looking forward to actually practicing combat spells for one.

"Right, I wanted to ask you if that would be alright," Hermione said. When Harry nodded she took her coin and changed the time and date on it. Harry felt his own radiate some heat for a few seconds.

"You are absolutely brilliant, 'Mione,'" Ron sighed in admiration.

"Swallow before you speak, Ronald," Hermione replied, crinkling her nose in disgust. Her appreciation was obvious in the discoloration of her cheeks, though.

* * *

And soon, Saturday had come. Harry stood in what he now knew to be the room of requirement. It was a fascinating place to be sure and it was absolutely perfect for their purpose. It felt as if the castle itself wanted them to fight back against Umbridge. That thought steeled Harry with even more resolve.

People started to stream inside, their coin in hand. Harry stood still in the middle of the room, his hands clasped behind his back as he watched Hermione register everyone who wanted to join. She had spelled the parchment they signed in such a manner that if anyone told on the group, their face would be covered with the word 'Traitor'.

At the top of the list, one could read the name the trio had chosen for their new group. The D.A. Which could stand for either Defence Association or – if you fancied a joke – Dumbledore's Army. When Hermione had put that on top of the parchment, a big grin on her face, Harry had just shrugged amusedly. He didn't quite mind being considered a warrior for Dumbledore seeing how he kind of already was and had been his entire life.

There were students from three different houses but not a Slytherin in sight. It was for the best that way. Harry couldn't trust a single one of those snakes.

The group piled up in a sort of nervous huddle as they all turned their attention to Harry who suddenly felt put on the spot.

"Go on, Harry," Fred called from somewhere in the group.

"Try not to kill one of us, though," George interjected.

Harry chuckled at the twins. "Don't worry. I'll start you off on something easy."

They spent the entire afternoon learning the simple but highly effective Expelliarmus. While some people already had some sort of grasp on the spell, no one knew how to control or aim it very well. After the lesson was over, that had definitely changed. Even Neville had gotten the hang of it. Sort of.

Tired but satisfied, the students left the room in pairs as to not rouse any suspicion on the other side.

"Brilliant lesson, Harry," George praised, slapping Harry on the back.

"Yeah thanks, mate," Fred added. "Count us in for next time as well."

Harry grinned stupidly as people left the room praising him for his teaching skills and knowledge. He was looking forward to all the things he could teach his friends. And perhaps their new skills would one day save their lives though Harry hoped it would never be necessary.

"Well done, Harry," Hermione praised as she smothered Harry in an intense hug.

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry grinned, returning the hug, "You guys did really well."

"Yeah well, you need at least _some_ knowledge of these things if you're going to hang with Harry Potter," Ron shrugged.

They were the last ones to leave. Harry was happy to be able to get started on his leftover homework. Sunday would be wide open.

* * *

Harry shot up, suddenly wide awake. He found himself screaming again and stopped immediately. Thank Merlin for silencing spells. He glanced around and when he saw that none of his dormmates had woken up, he put on his slippers and went down.

He had dreamt the same thing from before. And even though he wished he could take the dreamless sleep potion again, he knew he couldn't just yet. He also knew he would be unable to fall asleep again and decided on something rash.

He took out his invisibility cloak and wand and left the Gryffindor tower, leaving a confused fat lady in his wake.

He skulked through the dungeons as silently as he could. On his way there he had to dodge both Filch and the bloody baron. Neither of them had noticed Harry's presence though. So when Harry was absolutely certain that no one was around, he knocked on the portrait that he knew to lead to Snape's private quarters.

After he had done so, he swallowed nervously. Suddenly he felt like a needy child and admonished himself for even coming here. Was he really going to cry to an adult just because he had had a bad dream? He turned to leave again when the portrait in question swung open.

Snape – not looking dishevelled in the slightest – peered outside with that sharp glare, his eyes narrowing when he saw no one.

"Potter?" He asked quietly.

Harry released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and revealed himself.

"Hello, Professor," he greeted as if he had every right to be there in the middle of the night. For a moment, it seemed as if Snape didn't know how to react to Harry's presence but eventually he motioned for him to come inside.

"Sit, Harry," Snape ordered when the portrait had shut once more. Harry did as he was told, choosing a comfortable looking chair near the fireplace that was still blazing brightly. A thick book lay open on a table nearby.

"Don't you ever sleep?" Harry asked in surprise as Snape took the opposing chair.

"Do you?" he countered.

Harry smiled bitterly. "Touché."

"Did you have another nightmare, Harry?" Snape asked.

Harry nodded, waiting for Snape to tell him to _respond verbally_ but no such order left his lips.

Snape seemed to think something over silently before leaning forward to face Harry. The pain on the boy's face was glaringly obvious as was the exhaustion.

"Harry, you know as well as I do that using potions is not a lasting solution," Snape said.

"I know, Professor," Harry replied in frustration. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't. I could have taken another portion of the potion if I wanted to."

"And I'm glad you didn't," Snape said evenly, not sure why Harry took such a defensive stance. "In fact, I believe I may be able to offer you a permanent solution."

The sudden hope flashing in Harry's eyes pained Snape a great deal. How much more did this boy need to suffer?

Collecting himself, Snape took the book that was already open and showed it to Harry.

_Beginners guide to an Experts mind: Occlumency_

"What's this?" Harry asked, eyeing the thick book suspiciously.

"Both the headmaster and I see merit in you learning the art of Occlumency, Harry," Snape explained. "Albeit for different reasons."

Harry took the book from Snape and opened it to the first chapter, squinting grimly at the mess of difficult words before closing it again.

Snape raised an eyebrow at him. "If you can master this art, you will conquer your nightmares without question."

Hope filled those blasted green eyes once more.

"Okay, please tell me what to do," Harry said eagerly but Snape just shook his head.

"This is a very difficult art to master, Harry," he said. "And it is not something we should start on when you are in the state you are in now."

"I'm fine," Harry objected.

"You're clearly still affected by the nightmares," Snape countered. "Besides, it's the middle of the night."

"Well, seeing how we're both up…" Harry tried.

"Harry…" Snape pinched the bridge of his nose as he struggled to remain calm. "You will go to sleep now. We will speak more of this tomorrow."

Snape handed Harry the thick book as well as a potion that Harry recognised as a calming draught.

"Take this potion and try to clear your mind before you go to sleep," Snape said in a caring voice. "Tomorrow you will read what you can from this book and you will see me in my office after dinner."

Harry didn't really want to leave yet so he hesitated in the doorway. Snape arched an eyebrow at his behaviour.

"Yes, Harry?" He asked, slightly confused.

Harry shook his head. "Nothing, Professor. Thank you." He donned himself in his invisibility cloak once more, clutching the monster of a book in his arms and went on his way thinking that he had rather spent the night right there.

* * *

_Please review if you get the chance! If you want a quick update, I promise it helps. Ideas and inspiration are also always welcome._

_Thanks for reading!_

**Last revised on 03/07/2020**


	23. Chapter 23

_You guys were so nice and quick to review, I worked hard all day to get this chapter up. I hope you_ _like it!_

* * *

**Chapter 23**

Thanks to the calming draught, Harry had had no problem falling asleep again. He had tried clearing his mind – whatever that meant – but could not be sure if he had succeeded or not. He didn't have another nightmare though and slept peacefully until a respectable hour.

He was already reading in front of the common room fire when Hermione came down, yawning widely. Clarity filled her eager eyes as soon as she saw Harry read the behemoth book on Occlumency.

"Harry," she breathed in awe. "Where did you get this?"

Harry shrugged. "Dumbledore told Snape to teach me Occlumency," he replied. It was not a lie, from what Snape told him.

"I'm so envious," Hermione groaned. "Can I take a look?"

Harry passed her the book. "It's not doing me any good, really," he admitted. "I can't understand a word of it."

Hermione scrunched up her nose in concentration as she took the seat opposite of Harry, her finger moving from word to word as she read them.

"I'll admit it's worded rather…"

"Anciently?" Harry said

"I suppose you could say that," Hermione agreed, eyeing the text fondly. "I can go over it with you if you'd like," she suggested.

"Hermione that would be great!" Harry said happily. "But don't you have homework to do?"

"Homework?" Hermione said in shock. "When I get the opportunity to learn the basics of what's basically a lost art? Don't be daft, Harry."

Harry chuckled as he shifted his seat next to Hermione's so he could read the text with her. She basically translated every sentence into common present-day English of which Harry gratefully took notes.

"Basically, Harry, you need to find an object, person or emotion and focus on that," Hermione explained the general outline of chapter one. "That should help clear your mind of any outer threats. However,…" She bit at her thumbnail as she doubled checked the text. "I'm not sure how you're supposed to keep focus when someone uses Legilimency."

"What's _that_?" Harry questioned.

"It's basically an attack on your mind by using a spell," Hermione explained as she flipped forward to chapter two. Harry didn't really care that much. As long as he could keep out the nightmares, that would be just fine for him.

"Getting a bit chummy, are we?" Ron suddenly said accusingly. He had been walking down the stairs, halting at the third step from the bottom as he took in the display below.

"Just studying, Ron," Harry explained. "You're welcome to join us if you want but I wouldn't recommend it."

Ron glanced at the book the two were sharing and made a disgusted noise. "You two are barmy. I already knew Hermione was barmy but Harry, you're even more so."

Harry, getting the feeling of a déjà vu, rolled his eyes and glanced over his notes again.

"It's about Occlumency, Ronald!" Hermione said excitedly. "It's so interesting. Look at it!" With great effort, she held up the book for Ron to see.

"Yeah, thanks, 'Mione but I'll pass," Ron dismissed. "It's time for breakfast anyway, aren't you coming?"

"No," dismissed Hermione.

"Yes," said Harry at the same time.

When Hermione looked at Harry pleadingly, he couldn't help but chuckle. "Hermione, I'm supposed to practice these things with Snape later on. I'd rather not be hungry for it."

Hermione nodded in defeat and followed Harry and Ron towards the great hall.

As soon as Harry sat himself at his usual spot, he glanced towards the teachers' table where a certain Potions Master was absent. Harry frowned slightly but made nothing of it. Dumbledore was sharing a loud, infectious laugh with McGonagall so there was probably nothing wrong.

Harry helped himself to a buttered piece of toast and listened intently to Hermione as she rambled on about what they already read in the Occlumency book. Ron was completely ignoring her and had started a riveting conversation with Seamus about the Quidditch World cup.

* * *

After an entire afternoon of intent studying, which was only interrupted by meals and bathroom breaks, Harry and Hermione had fought their way through three and a half chapters of the daunting book. They had even implemented some practical exercises. The problem was that they had no way of knowing if what they were doing was correct, and if not, how to correct it.

That's why they hadn't practised for long. After dinner, Hermione shot Harry a longing look as he was about to leave. "Perhaps it would be useful if I came as well," she offered. "I would be able to help you more if I did."

Harry grinned at his eager friend. "I'll be sure to suggest it to Snape," he assured her, knowing what the answer would probably be. Hermione's face lit up at that and she turned back to the book she had confiscated from Harry, leaving him with his notes.

Snape's office door was already open. When Harry peered inside he saw Malfoy standing near Snape with an open book, pointing at a certain part of it. Both Slytherins looked up when they noticed Harry's presence, Malfoy closing his book with a loud slap.

"Sorry for taking up your time, Professor," Malfoy said. He nodded politely at Harry as he walked past him, leaving the two alone in Snape's office. Harry gawked at the back of the boy as he disappeared around the corner and frowned as he shut the door.

"Odd," he murmured.

"And what, pray tell, occurs to you as odd?" Snape asked as he stood up and started to move some furniture around with a swish of his wand.

"Malfoy," Harry replied. "He hasn't so much as sneered at me this year."

"Well, you did save his life if you recall, Harry," Snape pointed out. "Even a Malfoy would deem it rude to treat you unfairly after such an occurrence."

"If you say so, sir," Harry shrugged.

"Have you been reading?" Snape asked.

Harry nodded and Snape rolled his eyes. "How many times must I remind you, Harry? Verbal responses."

"Yes, sir," Harry sighed in annoyance.

"How many chapters have you read?"

"Three and a half," Harry replied. This seemed to impress Snape somewhat as he raised his eyebrows in mild surprise.

"And did you understand much of it?" Snape asked. The question might have come across as if Snape were mocking Harry, but the tone of it didn't imply that in the least.

"With Hermione's help, I did," Harry said honestly as he plopped himself into a nearby chair.

"Ah," Snape said with a knowing smile. "She was no doubt eager to assist you."

Harry chuckled. "You have no idea. If I hadn't stopped her, she would have come with me."

"I have no doubt," Snape smiled. "But I think that unwise. One student at a time. Have you tried clearing your mind yet?"

"I tried, sir," Harry said, chewing his lip somewhat. "But I'm not sure if it worked."

"I would be surprised if it did, Harry," Snape said honestly. "Especially with a mind as chaotic as yours."

"Hey!" Harry said, chuckling. "You don't know that."

Snape raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Don't be so sure, Harry. I am an expert mind reader."

"Yeah, you're pulling my leg again, aren't you?" Harry laughed. "And next you'll be saying something like '_Naïve dunderhead Gryffindor'_ or something of the sorts."

Snape gave him a quizzical look. "If that is what you wish to believe. In any case, Harry, you will attempt to clear your mind and when you're ready, I will attempt to invade it."

Harry felt a chill run down his spine. "Wait, you really _are_ going to read my mind?"

"Not if you can block me," Snape said matter-of-factly, brandishing his wand.

Harry frowned. What if Snape saw the things Umbridge was doing? Would she go after Ron's dad if she thought Harry had told on her? Would she send the ministry after Snape for being a death eater? Maybe she would try to get him fired or worse, sent to Azkaban.

"I don't know if I want to do this," Harry said. "Can't you check if I'm clearing my mind properly first?"

"Not without entering your mind, Harry," Snape explained. "Are you worried about what I'll see?"

"Well yeah," Harry shrugged. "Wouldn't anyone?"

"I imagine there's not much there that I won't expect," Snape said sadly. "If you wish, I could see if professor Dumbledore is available to teach you instead?"

"No!" Harry said, shuddering at the thought. "No, I'd rather it's you."

"Very well," Snape said straightening himself as he aimed his wand. "Clear your mind."

Harry focused on Padfoot. He focused on the black fur of the dog, its dark eyes and its wet snout. How was Sirius doing at that moment? Was he prancing around in Padfoot form, looking for newspapers and finding out about Harry's new title: The-Boy-Who-Lied? What was Fudge even thinking, denying Voldemort's return like this? He must be really scared to lose his position.

"Legilimens," Snape said loudly.

_Harry stabbed a sword through the basilisk's head, its fang piercing his shoulder; Harry was five, being hit with a frying pan for burning a sausage; He was reading the Occlumency book with Hermione in front of the fireplace; Harry woke up from his nightmare, surrounded by confused onlookers, crying in his hands._

Harry fell to the floor panting heavily. His defences had been non-existent, and Snape had seen _so_ much. He had tried to push but to no avail. The trained Potions Master was far stronger. Harry didn't even want to meet his gaze.

"Harry," Snape said evenly. "On your feet. Come on."

Harry scrambled to stand upright, coming face to face with the concerned look of his professor.

"Are you alright?" Snape asked worriedly.

"Yes, sir," Harry panted. "But couldn't you have chosen some lighter memories?"

"Oh, was facing the basilisk not a happily adventurous day for you?" Snape asked, smiling slightly.

"It was alright," Harry shrugged. "The slide down was cool as was the flight up. The getting stabbed and almost dying? Not so much."

Snape chuckled at the good-natured humour in Harry's voice. "Unfortunately, I don't choose the memories to peruse, Harry," Snape said. "I could look for something, in particular, should I choose to do so, but we are not at that stage yet. Your mind is wandering everywhere all on its own and I am just a humble viewer."

"So you're saying I could show you the memories I want you to see?" Harry asked. "Like hours of studying? Have you endure the torture of one of your own essays?"

"Please, that's not torture," Snape chuckled. "That seems like an interesting slideshow of sorts."

"Divination it is!" Harry concluded dramatically.

"Heavens, no," Snape breathed. "If you manage that, I might never dare venture into your mind again."

Harry chuckled as he stood a bit stronger, the former dizziness gone.

"Do try to clear your mind again, Harry," Snape said, his voice all business once more. "Trying to direct specific memories my way is fine, but only if your first form of defence fails."

"I understand, sir," Harry said.

So maybe thinking of Padfoot wasn't a good idea. There were too many connections there. He saw an apple sitting on Snape's desk and thought it would be as good an imagery as anything.

Harry thought of the apple. It had a red peel with a yellow sheen to it. The stem seemed split in half for some reason.

"Legilimens," Snape said again.

Mrs Weasley used red apples like those when making apple pie. She always said the red ones were sweeter. Percy never liked those pies. But then again, Percy never liked much of anything. Fred and George were far better friends.

And just like so, Harry's mind was lost to Snape once more.

_Harry talked to the snake at the zoo, asking where it was from; Harry summoned a Patronus to save his past self from the dementors; Dudley was hitting Harry in the stomach as his two goons held Harry's arms._

Once Harry had realized that his mind had become compromised once more, he thought of specific memories.

_Trelawney predicted his death; He was drinking tea with Ron, laughing at the ridiculousness of their own conclusions; Trelawney ordered everyone to use a dream journal; Harry woke up from a nightmare while he was held by Snape; Snape came from behind Harry, urging him to stay down as he walked over to the Dursleys, ready to kill; Vernon punched Harry repeatedly in the face then threw him into his cupboard._

Harry found himself flat on the floor, relishing the cold feel of the tile.

"Well that was bloody awful," He murmured. He pushed himself up using his hands and glanced over to Snape who was leaning against his desk with one hand covering most of his face.

"Professor?" Harry asked carefully, as he tried to steady himself once more.

As if awoken from a daze, Snape lowered his hand with a brusque movement and solemnly met Harry's gaze.

"I think that's enough for today," he said quietly.

"What did I do wrong?" Harry asked, eager for some pointers.

Snape sighed deeply as he tried to collect himself. Harry felt kind of guilty that his memories seemed that off-putting to Snape but didn't say anything.

"Your mind wanders far too much still," Snape explained. "While your second attempt was better, it was easy to distract you. When you think of an apple, think of nothing but that apple. Don't allow your mind to consider apple pie."

Snape licked his lips slightly as he paused, glancing at Harry once more. The look in Snape's eyes made Harry sick to his stomach.

"Your second line of defences, when activated proved to be a valid distraction until you – once again – allowed your mind to wander. Your dream journal led to you thinking about nightmares and – well – and so on."

Harry nodded. "I understand, sir."

"Practice on that," Snape said resolutely. "I will let you know when your next lesson will take place." Harry nodded.

"Goodnight, Severus," he said quietly.

"Goodnight, Harry," Snape replied.

Harry walked out of Snape's office and back towards Gryffindor tower, feeling completely empty and defeated. He knew then that he hated Occlumency.

Snape poured himself a glass of fire whiskey from the moment Harry left his presence. It took him a few measly seconds to empty the first glass, so he eagerly filled it up again. That had been excruciatingly difficult.

Not only did Snape feel rage and contempt towards Vernon Dursley for the things he had put Harry through, but he was also visited by the ghosts of his own past that were taunting him after having been gone for so long. Snape swallowed the last of his whiskey and occluded.

He had to do this for Harry.

* * *

"How did it go, Harry?" Hermione asked eagerly when Harry entered the Gryffindor tower again.

Harry groaned painfully in response.

"That bad, huh?" Hermione asked, giving Harry a small smile in consolation.

"It was horrible," Harry admitted. "My mind just kept wandering."

"I guess you just need more practice," Hermione consoled. "Occlumency is a very difficult art to master. It would be impossible to grasp on your first lesson."

Harry shrugged. "I guess."

"Did you ask if I could come next time?" Hermione asked eagerly.

"Sorry," Harry replied. "But Snape doesn't want to teach more than one student at a time Occlumency."

Hermione looked disappointed. "Oh." But then she perked right back up. "So maybe he'll teach me when he's done with you!"

Harry rolled his eyes. He doubted that he was going to master Occlumency during his last years at Hogwarts if ever. But he decided to placate Hermione. "Maybe he will."

But Harry wondered if Snape even wanted to teach _him_ anymore. That look in his eyes had been all but pleasant after all.

* * *

This year was already shaping up to be one of the worst years Harry had ever had at Hogwarts, only preceded by his fourth year. He steeled himself as he walked into Umbridge's office after an uneventful day of classes.

His hateful gaze met Umbridge's with as much disdain as he could manage. He was trying his best to not show any fear. Umbridge looked at him with a taunting smile, her hands clasped in front of her.

"Welcome, Mr Potter," she greeted. As always, Harry did not respond.

"Do you have any new insights to share with me?" Umbridge tried as she had many times before.

Harry didn't move in the slightest and just continued to stare at the hideously pink toad standing in front of him.

Umbridge sighed and motioned towards a familiar desk. "You may get started."

Without pause, Harry took a seat and started writing. He noticed immediately that the scratches made by the quill were being relocated once again. Only this time, they weren't limited to one spot. Harry glanced up at Umbridge who was sneering at him with an expression that rivalled Snape's.

Harry gritted his teeth as he continued writing. He could feel his flesh opening up all over his arms, legs, back, and torso as he wrote. At some point, he had even felt a tingle on the back of his neck. Frowning at the blood on his parchment, he was wondering how littered with injury his body was becoming.

How was this woman working for the ministry? Her cruelty rivalled that of any Death Eater. Harry swallowed thickly as he was writing down a particularly nasty sentence that seemed to cut right into his armpit. He could feel droplets of blood trickle lightly all over and was starting to feel lightheaded.

"Put down the quill, Mr Potter," Umbridge said exasperatedly after a few hours. They still had a few more hours until curfew, though, so Harry frowned but did not object. Had the woman finally given up? She sure seemed frustrated enough.

"It would appear that the message is not sinking in at all, is it?" She asked sweetly, though Harry was sure he could see murder in her eyes. Harry wanted to bite back with a hateful retort but didn't think that wise. He kept his mouth shut and waited expectantly.

"No, I thought not," Umbridge concluded. "Fortunately for me, the minister has given me free rein in this school."

She aimed her wand at the surrounding walls and uttered, "Silencio."

Umbridge then lifted her wand and aimed it at Harry whose eyes widened. "Do tell me when you finally change your mind, Mr Potter," she said, cocking her head to the side as if she believed herself to be endearing.

Harry got up from his seat and was already bolting to the door, not trusting the malicious glint in those hateful eyes. But he could not outrun the spell.

"Crucio!"

Harry fell to the floor in an instant. His nerves felt as if they were all set on fire. The multitude of quill scratches on his body stung with such ferocity it felt as if they were all being poked with ragged pieces of glass. Other parts of his body felt as if they were being stabbed with white-hot knives and Harry lost all sense of who or where he was.

What felt like an eternity later, the spell was lifted and he looked up at the looming figure standing over him.

"Well?" Asked the sickeningly sweet voice.

Harry spat out some blood that must've come from biting his tongue and glared at Umbridge as he tried getting up.

"No?" Umbridge asked in mock-disappointment. "Very well, I've got time. Crucio!"

Once more, the sensation overcame Harry with the force of all the pain he had felt throughout his lifetime multiplied a thousandfold. He screamed, knowing full well that no one could hear him. When the curse was lifted again, Harry noticed that he was curled into a ball, sweat, and tears soaking his shirt.

"Surely you can't be this stupid," Harry spat, trying to push himself upright with his trembling hands. "You realize this is illegal, right?"

Umbridge had the audacity to laugh. It was a haughty and infuriating laugh that sparked a deep sort of anger within Harry.

"Oh dear boy," Umbridge said in a very condescending tone. "Who do you think people will believe? I am a ministry official, handpicked by the minister himself whereas you –" She poked a finger in Harry's chest. "are famously known as The-Boy-Who-Lied."

"I'm not lying!" Harry roared, defiance still as clear as ever.

Umbridge frowned and pointed her wand towards Harry once more.

"Crucio."

The last few hours were spent with Umbridge throwing a barrage of Cruciatus curses at Harry who had no means to defend himself. By the end he found himself on the cold floor, trembling violently. His face was tear-streaked and his fingernails bloody from scratching at the stone floor in his agony. Vomit lay mere inches away from his face where he had expelled it as the continued agony made him nauseous. He was unable to lift his gaze off the floor where he saw countless smears of blood which was all undoubtedly his. Even if he had wanted to speak now, he couldn't. His voice was hoarse from all his screaming.

"We have run out of time, Mr Potter," Umbridge said as if this was something she regretted. "Get up and go straight to your dormitory."

Harry wanted to say something but nothing but a weak groan escaped his lips. He tried to get up off the floor but all he managed was a twitch of his finger. That is, besides the involuntary spams of course. Those were frequent enough.

"I don't have all day," Umbridge chided as she kicked Harry lightly against his legs. This normally harmless enough action caused Harry more excruciating pain, making him groan again.

"Have it your way," Umbridge sighed. "Imperio."

And suddenly, Harry was on his feet. Umbridge made him walk back to the Gryffindor tower and stayed by his side. Harry was vaguely aware that this vile excuse for a human being was using yet another unforgivable curse on him but was far too weak to fight it. Every step he took hurt but he was not allowed to make a sound.

The pair didn't encounter a soul and when they reached the portrait of the fat lady, Umbridge commanded Harry to go straight to his dorm room and go to sleep, which is exactly what he did. He was vaguely aware of people throwing him weird glances or even trying to talk to him but he dutifully ignored them all and fell gratefully into his bed, fully clothed. He closed his eyes and went to sleep.

* * *

The next day was exceptionally agonizing for Harry but he was able to get out of his bed. He was still shaking albeit less violently than the previous evening and he noticed that he felt cold and clammy.

Wearily, he shook his head and stumbled out of his bed, almost unable to catch himself when he felt his legs ache as they shifted to carry his weight.

"Harry," Ron breathed. "You look like death itself."

Harry wanted to reply something witty but was only able to produce a low rattling sound.

"Yeah, you should probably stay in bed," Ron concluded but Harry shook his head vigorously.

"Really?" Ron admonished. "You think showing to potions looking like this will do you any good?"

Ron made a valid point, of course. It would be so much easier for Harry to just fall back into his bed and go to sleep. But he could already imagine the satisfied smirk on Umbridge's face when noticing his absence at breakfast. And once again, that Slytherin pride reared its ugly head.

"'M fine," Harry managed to grunt before shakily making his way into the bathroom, changing into a clean set of robes. It was a good thing that their robes were black. Black didn't show anything after all.

"Harry!" Hermione screeched when she saw him stumble his way down the stairs, being somewhat supported by Ron. "You should obviously be in bed. Get back up there."

Harry shook his head and made for the portrait.

"I already tried that, 'Mione," Ron said, glancing at Harry. "I don't know what his problem is."

"Well I bet it has something to do with Umbridge," Hermione said angrily. "Don't worry Ron. This ends today."

* * *

Breakfast was very difficult to get through. The other Gryffindors were throwing him odd glances, some shuffling away from him as if afraid to catch some horrible disease. Harry couldn't blame them for getting that impression. If he didn't know any better, he too would think he was sick. Maybe he actually _was_ sick? He didn't know how to tell anymore.

He was unable to eat or drink anything, certain that he would expel anything that would invade his stomach at that point. When Harry glanced towards the teachers' table, he saw Umbridge glare at him with an intense ferocity that seemed to warn him. Snape was, once again, not present. Perhaps he was preparing for his class.

"Are you sure you don't want anything to eat?" Hermione asked worriedly.

Harry shook his head and stood up to start making his way down to the dungeons. It would, no doubt, take him longer than usual so he'd best get a head start.

Hermione sighed as she took Harry's book bag from him. "I'll come with you."

The entire way down consisted of Hermione admonishing Harry for not staying in bed when he was in no condition to attend classes as Harry grunted his responses. He was certain that Hermione would never miss class on accounts of being sick. He was grateful that she carried his things for him and helped him struggle to those very far off dungeons but he wished she would stop pestering him.

"I'm telling Snape, you know," Hermione said, causing Harry to look at her in shock.

"No," he said softly.

"Harry, look at you!" Hermione screeched. "I don't know what she's done but this has gone too far."

Harry glared at her dangerously, cursing the loss of his voice. But he was also sort of grateful to his friend and felt happy with the knowledge that she looked out for him.

When they had almost reached the dungeons, Ron – who had insisted on stuffing his face some more – caught up with them, as did most of the other students. Harry gratefully sat down on a stool as soon as they entered the classroom, flanked by Ron and Hermione.

When the last student had finally entered the classroom and taken their seat, the dark and towering figure of Snape entered the classroom, stalked to the front with long strides and turned to face his glass with his robes billowing behind him menacingly.

His dark gaze swept across the room and came to a halt when it fell on Harry who was too busy staring at his spasming hands to notice the glint of fury in Snape's eyes.

"Everyone out!" he bellowed suddenly, spooking the students who had done nothing disobediently. Nobody moved.

"Every student who is still here within five minutes loses one hundred points and earns themselves a year's worth of detention," he said dangerously. "Now get out!"

Harry sighed, not sure what was going on and tried to close the book Hermione had already opened for him. His frustratingly trembling hands were uncooperative though.

As he fumbled he suddenly noticed a large hand slam into his book. He looked up to meet Snape's intense stare. The man looked furious.

"Professor," Hermione said bravely, throwing a worried glance towards Harry.

"This is your last chance, Granger," Snape said quietly. She and Harry were the last ones left in the room. "If you don't want to get expelled, I suggest you leave right now." Snape's gaze did not leave Harry's as he spoke to Hermione.

Hermione made an exasperated noise but finally did as she was told.

Harry opened his mouth to speak but was once again unable to produce much noise so he just shut his jaw with a click.

Snape waved the door shut with his hand and Harry thought he heard the lock click in place. He couldn't suppress a groan. He really didn't want to get into even more trouble.

"Who cast the Cruciatus Curse on you?" Snape then asked coldly.

Harry frowned for a second but chose to look away.

"What? You don't think I recognise the after-effects of the curse?" Snape said dangerously. "Merlin, how many times was it cast? Answer me, Harry!"

Harry opened his mouth and tried to answer again but even trying to do so hurt. He just sighed and tried to stand, reaching for his bag. He wanted to get out of there.

"Fine, have it your way," Snape growled. He grasped Harry's chin between his thumb and index finger and forced the boy to look into his eyes.

"Legilimens."

Snape's intrusion felt far more powerful and concentrated than before. Harry knew that even if he tried to kick Snape out of his mind, he would fail to do so. The attempt alone would cost energy he did not possess anymore so he allowed the potion master to peruse his memories.

As he watched along, he saw how Snape observed him writing his lines, carving into his flesh. The memories pertaining to that particular punishment were plentiful and Harry saw them all pass by. The memory involving the cruciatus curse was particularly difficult to see.

As if he was watching a movie in fast forward he saw himself get blasted by the curse again and again. He tried to keep count but was unable to do so. It was pitiful to see himself squirm like that.

When Snape pulled out of Harry's mind again, he found the Potions Master's eyes to be blank. It was as if he had erected a shield. The same shield he held in place for anyone but Harry. At least nowadays. But now it was back.

After a few seconds, Snape's hand shot forward as he lifted one of Harry's sleeves. Seeing that damned phrase '_I must not tell lies'_ etched countless times into his arm was clearly disconcerting as he hissed to himself.

Snape rushed to the fireplace and threw in a handful of powder.

"Poppy, please come here right this instant," he said calmly but there was a certain urgency to his voice that few people would have the courage to ignore.

Madame Pomfrey soon stepped out of the fireplace with an annoyed expression on her face. "Honestly Severus, the medical wing is not _that_ far away."

Snape gestured with his head towards Harry who still sat there clutching his bag, looking somewhat forlorn. "He was attacked with the Cruciatus curse multiple times," Snape said, ice in his voice. "But I would also suggest you check his body thoroughly. He seems to be keen on hiding his injuries, no matter how grave the situation." Snape threw Harry a nasty glare to accompany that statement.

Madame Pomfrey went to work quickly and efficiently. She didn't even seem all that startled but Harry knew that was just her mask of professionalism. She would, no doubt, erupt in full-blown anger later on.

"You can be sure we will discuss this later, Potter," Snape said darkly, then unlocked the door. "But first, I have an appointment to get to."

Brandishing his wand and a nasty sneer, Snape walked out the door.

* * *

_A big thanks to Randomly Talented for giving me an awesome idea! As always, I would love to hear what you guys think so please review!_

_Thanks for reading._

**Last revised on 08/07/2020 (and boy was it necessary)**


	24. Chapter 24

_Wow! I am amazed at the number of reviews I received from you all. The things a cliffhanger can do, am I right? Well, the big showdown is now and I hope it's satisfactory. Thank you all so much for your input!_

* * *

**Chapter 24**

Snape took long, steady strides towards the DADA classroom. Any student he encountered on his way there would jump out of his way dramatically when they saw his sinister glare. As if he wasn't threatening enough on his own, the wand in his hand left nothing to the imagination.

Even Filch – who seemed to be waiting to ambush troublemakers – wisely walked the other way as Snape passed him with all the grace of a mountain lion.

When he slammed open the door to Umbridge's despicably decorated classroom he noticed every student inside jump. This would've given him great satisfaction under normal circumstances but at that moment, he had eyes for one person only. White-hot rage seethed in his chest when his gaze met Umbridge's as she stood there looking quite appalled by the dour Potion Masters behaviour.

"Everybody out, this instant," Snape said threateningly.

"Hem hem," Umbridge tried making herself important. "I think not, Severus. You have no right to dismiss my class."

Snape looked around the room and saw the frightened faces of the group of first years gape at him. They only needed one more push.

"Get. Out." He said gravely, flicking aside an unoccupied desk with a swift movement of his hand.

That did it. The students were practically falling over each other in order to get out. It couldn't have taken more than a few minutes before the last one had gone. With another swish of his wand, Snape closed the door.

Meanwhile, Umbridge had grabbed her own wand and was staring down Snape with a slight smirk on her face.

"I don't know why you're here, Severus," she said sweetly. "But I strongly suggest that you lower your wand. _I_ am, after all, the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher whereas _you_ are simply a brewer of messy concoctions."

"And since when are the Unforgivables part of the curriculum, Dolores?" Snape sneered, not lowering his wand. He sidestepped so he stood slightly behind a desk. He wouldn't underestimate the woman.

"They aren't," Umbridge said. She tried to sound calm but Snape picked up on the slight tremor in her voice. "And anyone who tells you otherwise is a liar."

Snape's gaze darkened considerably as he thought of that one phrase that littered Harry's body.

"Is he now?" Snape growled. "Well, let's find out, shall we?"

Umbridge seemed to rightfully take that as her cue that she was about to be attacked and decided to try and get the upper hand.

"Expelliarmus!"

"Protego," came Snape's instant defensive spell.

Umbridge stepped to the side in order to get a better shot in but Snape sidestepped again, his gaze not faltering.

"Stupefy!" Umbridge cried. But Snape deflected it easily while countering with his own spell in the same movement.

"Furnunculus!" The spell hit its mark and Snape sneered in delight as boils started to appear all over Umbridge's face.

She cried out in frustration. "Expulso!"

The desk Snape had taken as slight cover exploded and he lifted his arm to protect his face against shards of wood. In the time it took him to do that, Umbridge was able to fire another spell.

"Incendio!"

A steady stream of fire was flung at Snape, singing some of the frilly throw pillows on the way. But Snape came prepared.

"Aguamenti."

A horizontal column of water doused the fire and drenched Umbridge entirely. Make-up ran down her face in ugly, black streaks as she narrowed her gaze at Snape.

He could see the unbridled rage in her eyes but knew that it, in no way, matched his own. He was eager to finish this.

"Crucio!" Umbridge yelled, madness visible in her eyes. Snape smirked and sidestepped easily.

"Sectumsempra!" Not for one second did Snape regret firing his own terrible curse at the vile woman that was Umbridge. He had aimed carefully as to not wound her critically but he truly enjoyed to see the blood flow out of the deep gash on her arm as well as the one that stuck out across her face.

It took Umbridge a few moments to realize she was struck down by something powerful and only after inspecting the incredible damage done to her arm did she fall down.

"I do believe that will leave a mark," Snape sneered.

Umbridge tried desperately to reach for her wand that was dropped on impact but Snape stepped on her hand, satisfied when he heard a few cracks.

"Oh dear," Snape said icily. "Whatever shall the minister say when he finds out you fired an Unforgivable at me, Dolores."

"You," she spluttered as blood dripped in her mouth. "You did this to me!"

"Me?" Snape asked innocently, raising a hand to his chest in mock confusion. "But Dolores, _you_ fired the first spell."

Umbridge narrowed her eyes at Snape but he was not impressed in the slightest.

"Now, I do need you to hang tight while I inform the headmaster," Snape informed the toad. "I suppose I might as well leave you with some entertainment. Legillimens!"

Delving into the mind of Umbridge was no pleasant affair. Behind the carefully constructed mask that was all pink and kittens and tea lay an entire array of sick desires and indulgences. Snape dared not venture very far into that minefield of abhorrence but decided to draw forth a specific memory.

He watched the memory of Harry's last detention from the vantage point of Umbridge and felt that disgusting pleasure the woman took as she watched Harry writhe in pain. Snape had to admit that Harry took the punishment in stride and did his best not to react but this woman was schooled in recognising the slightest discomfort and relished in it.

But no more.

Snape took the memory and pushed it to the front of her mind. At that moment, he was very thankful to be a skilled Legillimens. With the skills procured throughout his lifetime, he switched the vantage points. He placed Umbridge in the position that Harry was in and took the pain he had seen and felt in Harry's version of the memory to instil it upon Umbridge.

He then put a temporary block on it so Umbridge would not be able to escape the modified memory. It would be like a nightmare. Only she was awake and the pain was very real.

Snape exited Umbridge's mind and was pleased to see her squirm and yelp in agony as she scratched at her own, uninjured hand. She didn't seem to see him anymore and just lay there in a suffering, bleeding mess.

Snape considered that if he took just a bit too long, she might have bled to death in his absence. He would much rather see her suffer in Azkaban than dead. So he sighed and uttered, "Vulnera Sanentur," just one time. It should be enough to stop her from dying at least.

He stepped out of the classroom and locked the door with an unvoiced spell. A few of the first-year students were still hanging around the classroom and were looking at Snape in immense fear. Snape scowled at them, making them disperse immediately. Smirking to himself ever so slightly, he took his time going to the headmaster.

* * *

"Lemon drop, Severus?" Dumbledore asked as Snape stepped foot into his office. Snape frowned. He was quite clearly covered in blood and debris but not even _that_ seemed to faze Dumbledore.

"No, Albus," Snape declined.

"You never want my lemon drops," Dumbledore replied with feigned sadness.

"Do you know what kind of detentions Umbridge has been forcing on her students?" Snape said coldly.

"I can't imagine," Dumbledore replied as he chose a lemon drop for himself.

"I know of at least one student on whom she has used a blood quill," Severus said dryly.

Dumbledore dropped the lemon drop. "I beg your pardon?"

"Harry Potter is in the infirmary as we speak," Snape droned on. "And not only that, Albus, oh no," Snape continued darkly. "That foul woman has even deigned it necessary to perform the Cruciatus curse on him."

"She what?!" Fury flashed in Dumbledore's eyes as he stood up forcefully, causing some of the curiosities on his desk to be flung to the ground. "Are you quite sure?"

"I have seen both his and her memories. I am sure," Snape concluded.

Dumbledore walked forcefully towards his winding staircase. "Where is she?"

"In her classroom, I imagine," Snape replied, following suit. He would never admit it out loud but the magic that sparked around Dumbledore at that moment frightened him more than Voldemort ever could. The furious gaze in those eyes rivalled his own but the absolute power emanating from the wizard made even the presences in the passing portraits cower in fear.

Soon, they made it to the classroom. Dumbledore – who completely seemed to ignore Snape's locking spell – burst through the door only to find Umbridge in a bloody, weeping mess on the floor, cradling herself in an ugly ball.

There was no sympathy in the old man's eyes.

"You cursed her," he stated matter-of-factly.

"She initiated a fight when I confronted her," Snape replied, crossing his arms. "When she attempted to cast the Cruciatus curse on me, I had no choice but to defend myself proportionally."

"Quite right, my boy," Dumbledore said. "No one could argue with you there. But why is she so catatonic?"

"Well, I had to restrain her somehow," Snape shrugged. "And I must admit that my binding curse is not what it used to be. I had to get creative."

"Very well," Dumbledore said icily. "But I think it's best that you release her now."

Begrudgingly, Snape did so, then stepped back with his arms crossed.

Umbridge's eyes regained their focus as they fell on Dumbledore's hard, cold stare.

"Albus!" she cried. "Severus is a lunatic! He attacked me out of nowhere."

"Is that so, Dolores?" Dumbledore replied smoothly. "I'm sure the minister would love to see your memories in regards to what has happened at this school. And I'm not just talking about today."

Umbridge swallowed thickly and cradled her injured arm. "I got special privileges," she whimpered pathetically. It was all Snape could do to stop himself from hexing her into oblivion.

Dumbledore kneeled in front of Umbridge who backed away hastily when she felt nothing but malice exude from the powerful mage.

"I will personally make sure that you spend many years in Azkaban, Dolores," he uttered dangerously. "You will never harm a child again. And if you do –" He threw her an incredibly dark glare. "- I _will_ kill you myself."

Umbridge opened her mouth to speak but was stopped by a rapid 'Silencio' from Dumbledore which was quickly followed by an 'Incarcerous'.

"Did you pay attention, Severus?" Dumbledore said cheerily as he diverted his attention back to Snape. "_That's_ how you perform a binding curse.

"Right," Snape smirked. "I remember now."

"I will summon the Aurors and inform the minister of what happened here," Dumbledore said, closing and locking the door behind him once more. "I suspect it would be prudent of you to provide me with the memory of what happened here."

"Of course, Albus," Snape agreed as he followed Dumbledore back to his office.

* * *

Harry sighed for the umpteenth time as he stared at the curtains that surrounded his cot. Pomfrey had told him that he was not allowed to leave. Most of the cuts on his body had been easy enough to fix but the one on his hand was deep and infected. Harry was also running a fever because of said infection.

Having been hit by the cruciatus curse multiple times hadn't helped his immune system to fight off the infection either. His face burned and he tried to cover it with his arm.

Sleep eluded him. It was only morning and his body ached too terribly to be able to fall asleep at all. So in pain and bored, he stared at his curtains, imagining what was happening at the other side.

It had been a few hours since Snape had stormed out of the classroom, wand in hand and promising Harry a stern talking to. Madame Pomfrey hadn't exactly been too sympathetic about that. She felt he should have told an adult as soon as these detentions started.

She was probably right about that. But Harry still didn't think it necessary. As long as the problem was contained with him, it didn't matter at all.

He shuddered when he thought about the damage Umbridge might do once she realized that Snape found out about her detentions. Would she really try to sack Arthur? Would she try to sack Snape?

Harry sighed again. He was bored and his mind was wandering. But he was soon rescued from his boredom when he heard the door to the infirmary open quite forcefully. He could see the silhouette of someone walk brusquely towards Pomfrey's office only to barge in. He then heard two voices murmur to each other and Harry knew they were talking about him. They were taking a long time.

Harry was staring at his trembling hands when his curtain was forcibly ripped open. Harry jumped a bit and looked up to meet the extraordinarily angry gaze of Professor Snape.

"Good morning, sir," He greeted cheekily.

Snape's face went white. "Good morning?" He said dangerously. "You dare!"

"Okay, I'm sorry, alright," Harry said, raising his hands in defence. But seeing his trembling digits only seemed to enrage Snape even more.

"You impudent, moronic, utterly Gryffindorian child!" He spat angrily. "I don't even know where to begin!"

"At the beginning?" Harry suggested helpfully.

"Don't you dare give me cheek, Potter," Snape growled. "I am _not_ in the mood."

Harry wisely shut his trap.

Snape sat down heavily in a chair at the end of Harry's bed and ducked his head for a few moments as he ran his hands through his hair. Harry had never seen him look so distressed.

When Snape's gaze was drawn by a spasm of Harry's right leg, he frowned and focused his attention back on the dishevelled boy.

"First of all, I am very disappointed in you," he said softly.

Harry felt his insides twist with regret at those words. "But I-,"

"I'm not done," Snape interrupted coldly. "You seem to have absolutely no sense of self-preservation. How many times have you gotten hurt just because you put yourself in dangerous situations or didn't see fit to warn someone about the danger you were in?"

Harry opened his mouth to respond but Snape held up a hand to stop him. "That was rhetorical."

Snape dropped his hand again and leaned back into his chair, arms crossed and gaze unflinching as he looked into Harry's eyes.

"Harry," Snape said after a short pause. "What happened to you at the hands of that woman was unspeakably horrific and unnecessary. You should have told someone. It didn't have to be me. Why didn't you warn Professor McGonagall or, better yet, Professor Dumbledore?"

After a few seconds of silence, Snape sighed. "You may speak now."

"Professor, I'm sorry," Harry pleaded. "But she told me she would go after Hermione and Ron's father if I told anyone."

Snape's eyes narrowed, "You can't possibly be that foolish," he growled. "Do you honestly think she would be allowed to stay at this school as soon as you told someone? She wouldn't have been able to get _near_ Ms Granger at all. As for Mr Weasley, she can't get him fired when she's in Azkaban."

"Azkaban?" Harry repeated incredulously.

"Yes, Azkaban," Snape said coldly. "Even if it was just for the blood quill. Illegal is illegal."

"I didn't realize that," Harry muttered quietly.

"Surely you aren't _that_ moronic," Snape replied evenly. "If you had stopped to think for a few seconds, you would have realized this."

Harry just crossed his arms and chose a spot on his blanket to stare at furiously.

"I am not a fool, Harry," Snape chided. "I believe that I know very well why you chose to keep this secret until it almost killed you."

Harry rolled his eyes, igniting the fury in Snape once more.

"Don't you dare roll your eyes at me!" He shouted furiously. "What do you think happens when an infection like that goes untreated? Not to mention that you might have very well gone insane from the cruciatus curse!"

Harry stared at Snape in shock as he roared at him. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Madame Pomfrey emerge from her office and take swift strides in Snape's direction.

"You want to play the hero. You don't want to give in, even if it kills you! And for no. Good. Reason! You are trying to punish yourself for Diggory's death and it needs to stop!"

"Out!" Madame Pomfrey yelled. If Harry hadn't been so shocked at Snape's outburst, he would've laughed at the expression on Snape's face after being snuck up on.

"Mr Potter needs his rest and he is not getting any with you shouting at him like a lunatic!" she chided.

"Fine," Snape grumbled. He threw one last devastating glare at Harry before turning around and leaving the infirmary, his robes billowing behind him.

* * *

Harry had not been allowed to leave the infirmary for days. Hermione had been kind enough to take notes for him in class and to take his homework to him. Ron, however, preferred to bestow chocolate frogs unto Harry, nabbing the cards if he didn't yet have them.

"So, Umbridge's trial is over," Ron said, sitting on Harry's bed with his legs crossed as he unpacked one of the frogs.

"Already?" Harry asked in bewilderment. "That was fast."

"Yeah, well I suppose you can't very well torture the chosen one and get away with it, can you?" Ron said.

"Ronald!" Hermione chided. "Have you no tact?"

"Does that mean everyone knows?" Harry groaned.

"Not really," Ron said. "Everyone knows she tortured a student and some people assume that it must have been you but your name hasn't been in the papers or anything. Dumbledore made sure of that."

"Oh," Harry said, feeling a bit happier as he took one of the frogs. "So what was her sentence?"

"Twenty years in Azkaban," Hermione said cheerily. "With no option for early release."

"Yeah, Fudge is not happy," Ron grinned. "He was already unloved by the public and now he unleashed this horrible monster upon Hogwarts. I don't think he'll be able to stay in office for long."

"I sure hope not," Hermione said.

* * *

After a few more days, Harry was starting to feel restless. He was also feeling incredibly guilty and angry with Snape after the things the man had said to him. He hadn't been by to see him anymore after their last encounter and Harry guessed he was just too angry at him to bother. Or maybe he didn't care as much as Harry thought.

But Pomfrey finally released him after she was sure the infection had cleared up and provided Harry with a large jar of cream that would help with his scars. He was thankful for it because he didn't want to walk around with the sentence 'I must not tell lies' scribbled all over him.

Lucky for Harry, the weekend had just begun.

Unlucky for Harry, a big owl dropped a piece of parchment on his plate as soon as he sat down.

_Your occlumency lessons resume today. Meet me after breakfast._

_S.S._

Harry groaned and showed his friends the note.

"Bummer, Harry," Ron said, his mouth characteristically full.

"Oh, Harry, we haven't been able to go through the book since last time!" Hermione said.

"It's okay. We haven't had much time for it," Harry smiled. "I'm sure Snape will understand."

That was not what he was worried about anyways. He wondered if Snape was still mad at him. Maybe he just called him in to yell at him some more. But if he had to choose between Snape and the nightmares, he would choose Snape any day.

So after breakfast, Harry went to those all too familiar dungeons again. Hermione had offered to escort him, no doubt to peek into his Occlumency lessons but Harry had declined. He wasn't a child. He didn't need an escort. Even if trouble kept finding him. Snape would just need to understand that he couldn't help that.

"Enter!" Came that familiar dark voice before Harry could even knock on the door. Either the man had an uncanny sixth sense, or he had charmed his door to warn him when a visitor arrived.

Harry stepped inside to find that the furniture in the room was already swept aside, ready for his lesson.

"I hope you have been practising," Snape sneered.

"I've been in the infirmary," Harry said, blinking in surprise.

"I am well aware of where you were," Snape growled. "And seeing how you must have had plenty of free time on your hands, I am asking you if you have practised at all."

"No," Harry replied honestly.

"Must you waste my time?" Snape sighed.

"Why do you insist on making me feel terrible about this?' Harry asked angrily.

"Pardon me, Harry, but I don't think it's too much to ask for a student to practice their lessons." Snape retorted calmly.

"Not when the student is injured," Harry retorted.

"And yet, you have been able to finish the homework Ms Granger has brought you, have you not?" Snape asked, raising his eyebrows.

"I suppose you think your OWL's to be more important than shielding your mind from the Dark Lord, but I assure you, you will not think so when he takes control."

"Could you make up your mind about me already?!" Harry yelled.

Snape sighed. "What nonsense are you babbling about now?"

"One moment, you act all concerned and – well – a little nice but the next you act like a total git again."

"I will not hide the truth from you, Harry, no matter how painful," Snape said, glaring at Harry. "And the next time you call me a git, be it in public or private, I will have you scrubbing cauldrons until dawn."

Harry did nothing but glare.

"Oh, don't give me that pathetic stare and clear your mind." Snape droned.

"Fine," Harry spat. He knew he was _not_ going to be able to clear his mind at this rate. Not with Snape riling him up already. He tried to anyways. He was focusing on that git's hooked nose. The dark gaze above it, and the sneer that was seemingly always there.

"Legillimens."

_Harry was flying, catching the snitch as the crowd below exploded with applause; He told the hat that he didn't want to be in Slytherin; Ron's rat transformed into Peter Pettigrew; He was flying on a Hippogryph, whooping in glee._

"Focus, Harry," Snape sneered. "You are an open book."

"I'm trying!" Harry panted, gripping the edge of a desk in order to stay standing.

"Clearly, you're not trying hard enough. Again!"

"No wait –"

"Legillimens!"

_Vernon was choking Harry as he struggled to break free; He was fishing with Alex; Harry was overcome with loneliness as he watched Dudley unpack his Christmas presents; A woman was screaming Harry's name as she begged someone to leave him alone. A dark voice hissed 'Avada Kedavra' and a green light engulfed the scene._

Harry opened his eyes to find Snape staring at him in shock.

"Why did you show me that?" He asked, his voice emotionless.

Harry panted as he leaned on his knees. "I wasn't ready!"

"The Dark Lord is not going to wait until you're ready either," Snape deflected yet his voice still held no malice or even a hint of anger.

"Sure, why don't we approach all of our classes that way!" Harry shouted. What was Snape's problem?

Snape just stared at him again.

"Professor?" Harry tried when a realisation suddenly hit him. He had nearly forgotten that Snape had been friends with his mother. "Oh," he said softly. "I'm sorry."

"What for?" Snape asked.

"That you had to see that, sir."

Snape sighed and swept the furniture back with a swish of his wand. "I don't think either of us is up to this right now," he said. "You're clearly too angry to clear your mind, making this pointless."

"I agree, sir."

"We will try this again tomorrow. Clear your mind before you go to bed and make sure to read that book I gave you. It should help."

"Yes, Professor."

* * *

_There you have it! Not a cliff-hanger but this is where I'm ending it nonetheless. I need some inspiration for the next chapter so I'm not sure if I'll be able to update tomorrow. I know what I want to happen but I have some time to fill first._

_Ideas are welcome and so is general feedback. I'd love to hear from you all again!_

**Last revised on 09/07/2020**


	25. Chapter 25

_Thank you all so much for your reviews and your adds. They did the trick to get me to update quickly again. Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 25**

Snape was sitting in front of the fireplace, a glass of fire whiskey swishing in his hand as he stared into the flames dancing on the blocks of wood. As if he didn't have enough on his mind already between the Dark Lord and students that seemed adamant on blowing up his classroom, he now found himself occupied with The-Boy-Who-Lived.

His life as a spy had been relatively easy when he didn't have a soul he cared about. He had no issue in erecting a wall around him in order to keep himself from experiencing grief or sorrow at the loss or torment of someone he knew. Sure, it had never been pleasant but he was never affected as severely as some of his 'colleagues' were.

But now there was the matter of Harry Potter. There was no way that he could deny to have formed some sort of connection with the blasted child. And the connection couldn't have been chosen more poorly. He was the bane of the Dark Lord's existence and, until recently, had been Snape's as well.

If the Dark Lord ever found out about the relationship he now had with Harry – well – Snape was sure that he would suffer greatly before seeing his life come to an abrupt halt. Why would he risk that?

A sigh escaped him as he took another sip of his whiskey. He knew perfectly well why he risked it. At this moment, the boy found himself in dire need of an adult who could look past his reputation and past accomplishments. He was disconcerted to find out just how much his fellow teachers revered Harry Potter. Even Dumbledore had taken a liking to Harry that surpassed that of any student. But _that_ he had known since Harry's first year.

This reverence was clearly not something Harry needed. He was taught that taking risks was good and admirable. He was taught that being self-reliant was commendable. He had not been punished for wandering into the forbidden third corridor in year one. No, he and his cohorts had been rewarded with the house cup for their impertinence.

Year two had not been a different story. Anyone else would have been expelled with every rule they had broken. Even James Potter would not have been able to avoid expulsion as easily as his son had. And all because of that blasted scar.

Year after year, Harry had broken every rule in the book and had always been rewarded in one way or another. He was never punished and Dumbledore had always been there to pat him on the back.

Snape stared into the fire angrily. It was no wonder that the boy kept trying to get himself killed. He was finally able to attain some approval from authoritative figures. Something he had never once known before he had come to Hogwarts. None of them seemed to realize what sort of damage they were doing to Harry.

Perhaps that is why the boy seemed to gravitate towards him. Sure, the fact that he had pulled him away from the Dursleys twice would surely have helped but perhaps his wish that the boy remain safe had meant something to Harry as well.

There was no way that Snape could drop the boy. If anything, being distant had caused Harry to, once again, hurl himself in harm's way. There was only one clear option here and that was for Harry to learn Occlumency. Right now, Snape was taking a tremendous risk. Should the Dark Lord ever see what Snape had done for Harry, it would be over for him. So it was of the utmost importance that Harry got the subtle art through his thick skull.

That meant that Snape had to steel himself as well. He had to ignore the memories he stumbled upon. He couldn't be affected by the violence. He had seen far worse under the care of the Dark Lord. And what's more, he couldn't be affected by watching Lily die.

He had not been prepared for it. A teenager had no business having memories of when he was a toddler. How dare Harry be the exception to the rule again. Snape knew for sure that the flash of green light would surely visit him in his dreams before long.

But now that he knew what was lurking in Harry's mind, he could anticipate it. He could break the connection as soon as he saw it. He just hoped it wouldn't be necessary again.

Tomorrow he would not let Harry get off so easily. He couldn't stop his lessons as abruptly as he had done. No, he had all day tomorrow and he would not let it go to waste. Harry needed to make some sort of improvement and fast.

Snape tilted the glass of whiskey one last time to swallow whatever liquid was left in it and turned in for the night. As he expected, sleep did not come easily.

* * *

"Come on, Harry, you know this," Hermione encouraged as she gestured with a floppy piece of bread. "The three main focus points when clearing your mind. What are they?"

"Well, there's focusing on your breathing to keep your mind occupied," Harry murmured as he counted on his fingers. "There's having a simple imagery with little to no detail, and…" He frowned as he tried to recall the last one. "Er…"

"Cognitive distancing, Harry," Hermione supplied.

Harry groaned. "But that last one is so hard to understand."

"Well,…" Hermione thought to herself as she was looking for easier words. "It basically means to look at your thoughts instead of forming thoughts."

"That makes absolutely no sense," Ron grunted as he stuffed a pastry in his mouth.

"Must you always be eating?" Hermione chided.

"That's what breakfast is for!" Ron exclaimed.

"Well, at least chew with your mouth closed," Hermione rebutted.

Cognitive distancing. Harry mulled this over as he chewed. It sounded to him as if he needed to try and view his thoughts as if he were a bystander and not feel any emotional attachment or commitment. But how was he supposed to do that?!

"It'll be alright, Harry," Hermione said as she focused her attention on Harry again. "You've been practising."

"Yeah, but I have no clue if it's working!"

"Maybe you can ask professor Snape for some more pointers," Hermione tried.

Ron snorted at that. "Yeah, I'm sure that greasy git will be kind enough to give you some."

"He will if Harry shows that he's been trying," Hermione responded snidely.

And Harry _had_ been trying hard. He's spent the entire Saturday afternoon with Hermione trying to make sense of the big book. He had, once again, taken notes while Hermione attempted to explain the book's content in easier words but the more chapters they read, the more difficult the content proved to be. It wasn't just the language anymore. Occlumency was extremely advanced and difficult to grasp.

Some of the chapters had also discussed the art of Legilimency and even though it had helped Harry to understand how exactly his mind was being invaded, it in itself was an art he was sure he would never be able to grasp. And, quite honestly, he didn't think he wanted to. You could do some serious damage with it, even by accident.

"Harry, are you listening?' Hermione asked, clearly having tried to get his attention before.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't" Harry confessed.

"What imagery will you use?" Hermione asked again.

"I was thinking of a circle," Harry shrugged. "No corners, no colour, no nothing. It should be simple enough to not get distracted."

"That might work," Hermione agreed. "Do tell me all about it when you're done, Harry. I'm dying to know."

"I know, I know," Harry chuckled. He wasn't entirely sure about it himself, though. He didn't want to get into another argument with Snape and decided that he would do his best to not give in to the man's provocations.

* * *

"Have you been practising this time?" Snape said, glancing deep into Harry's eyes as if daring him to lie.

"Yes," Harry said confidently. "Hermione has been helping me."

"Let's try this again then, shall we?" Snape offered.

Harry nodded curtly as he pictured a circle. One round black line against a white background.

"Legilimens."

Nothing happened. Harry blinked in surprise as he met his Professor's gaze.

"Er,… is everything all right, sir?" he asked doubtfully.

"As a matter of fact, yes, Potter," Snape replied with the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips. "Your efforts are paying off."

"I did it?" Harry asked hopefully.

"No, Mr Potter, not by a long shot," Snape replied, urging Harry to calm down with his hands. "But you have been able to clear your mind. I can now put some effort into my attacks."

Harry scowled in annoyance but was still secretly happy that he at least made some progress.

"Again," Snape ordered and Harry pictured that same circle once more.

"Legilimens"

Harry felt safe within his barrier. The circle was his wall. He heard a rumble but tried to ignore it. He felt a shove and tried to not let it disturb him but he felt his mind wonder what that was. He quickly tried to simply observe the thought instead of being overcome with a hint of curiosity and thought he succeeded when he heard a high pitched sound and frowned at its annoyance.

Suddenly his mind was lain bare as he felt the dark presence that was Snape stalk through it.

Harry tried to shove the presence from his mind but was met with all the resistance of a brick wall.

_A five-year-old Harry was crying on the floor of his cupboard; Harry and Ron were in a flying car, following the Hogwarts express; Vernon was choking him, murder in his eyes; Harry watched in awe how his hand transformed after drinking polyjuice potion._

Harry managed to keep himself upright, panting heavily as he thought about the secrets Snape had uncovered this time.

"When did you drink polyjuice potion?" Snape asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Er… second year," Harry confessed.

Snape glared at him for a moment. "I knew someone had been stealing from my personal stocks. What was it for?"

"Well, er…" Harry was reluctant to answer but he didn't miss the warning that was obvious in Snape's cold stare.

"We were trying to figure out who the heir of Slytherin could be," Harry explained. "And we thought it might be Malfoy so we wanted to ask him ourselves."

"You keep saying 'we'," Snape noted cleverly. "I assume you mean to say your two friends were involved as well?"

Harry shut his mouth with a click of his teeth. _Damn_.

"I will find out one way or another, you know," Snape said but Harry noted a hint of amusement in his voice and could only hope that he would let bygones be bygones.

"Yes," he admitted reluctantly.

"Did it work?" Snape asked with genuine interest.

Harry grinned. "Well yeah! It worked brilliantly. Ron and I turned into Crabbe and Goyle after we put them to sleep," he explained while his hands moved exaggeratedly to support his tale. "We went into the Slytherin common room with Malfoy and we got him to talk. As you know, though, he had no idea who the heir of Slytherin was which is a bit odd if you ask me, seeing how it was Lucius who planted the diary in the first place."

"And who, pray tell, created the potion in the first place?" Snape asked, undeterred by this new information. "It is hardly part of the second-year curriculum."

"Take a wild guess," Harry said.

"Of course," Snape said. "Miss Granger."

"You're not going to deduct points or anything, are you sir?" Harry asked uncertainly.

Snape regarded Harry for a moment before replying. "I will not _use_ the information I find in your mind during these lessons. The only exception would be if your life or that of others is in immediate danger."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said.

"Your attempt was not bad this time," Snape said suddenly. "Your endeavour to ignore my attacks was better than I would have anticipated, especially considering your last blundering efforts. But you're still too easily distracted. Also, why have you not erected any shields as soon as I was in?"

"I don't know how to, sir," Harry admitted.

"In that case, I recommend you take a close look at chapter ten of the book I provided you with," Snape suggested. "As for now, you will continue to attempt to block me."

They spent the entire afternoon practising until both of them were exhausted to the point that it was no longer sensible to continue.

"Have a seat, Harry," Snape said, gesturing towards a chair. Harry eyed him a bit suspiciously. He had a DA meeting to get to in about an hour and wanted to freshen up before then. He also didn't feel like being scolded some more and Snape seemed to pick up on that.

"You're not in trouble," Snape said evenly. "Or at least, I hope you aren't."

"Of course not, sir," Harry said as he dropped himself into the offered chair.

"Of course not," Snape chuckled. "Whatever was I thinking. Tea?"

Harry blinked in surprise as he stared at the man before him. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as Snape conjured a teapot and filled up two teacups.

"Speaking of polyjuice potion sir,…" Harry said cautiously. "You really _are_ Severus Snape, right?"

Snape stopped what he was doing and threw Harry a nastily dark glare that only Snape would be able to conjure.

"Never mind," Harry said quickly as he accepted his teacup.

"Is it truly that inconceivable for me to wish to discuss something with a student amicably?" Snape asked as he sipped his own tea. "Don't bother answering. I just heard it myself."

Harry laughed as he felt the wall that was being rebuilt between him and Snape crumble back into dust. He hadn't even realized how much he had missed their friendly banter.

"Don't let anyone catch on," Harry warned comically. "Or McGonagall might be voted Hogwarts's scariest person next."

"I do suppose that would be a pity," Snape admitted. "I am quite fond of the sight of skittish first years."

"Yeah, they seem even more scared of you than previous years," Harry said in mock awe. "Did you know there's a rumour going around that you walked into Umbridge's classroom and hexed her into oblivion?"

"I cannot imagine where such an ill-conceived rumour could possibly originate from," Snape replied coolly.

"Yeah," Harry said, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. "That wouldn't be like you at all."

Snape's expression had turned serious at the mention of Umbridge and he sat back in his chair, watching Harry with a scrutinizing gaze.

"What?" Harry asked when he noticed.

"There is something I wish to talk to you about," Snape said.

"If this is about Umbridge again –"

"It is, but only slightly so," Snape said.

Harry sighed in annoyance but decided to stay put and listen. It was especially rare to catch Snape in a mood as good as he was in at the moment and Harry did not want to break whatever fragile rapport they had going on. So he nodded to indicate that he was listening.

"I need you to understand, Harry, that your safety matters to me," Snape admitted. "I would rather see you come to one of your professors when you face a problem than see you charge in headfirst."

"I don't always mean to be in danger." Harry objected.

Snape frowned. "I'm sure you don't _intend_ to risk your life all the time. I just think that you lack the proper judgement to realize what is and what is not an appropriate risk to take."

"Geez, thanks," Harry said, slightly agitated.

"I by no means want to insult you, Harry," Snape admonished. "I just think you have been led astray in that regard which is hardly your fault."

"Danger will always come to find me, sir," Harry shrugged. "It just comes with the name, I suppose."

"Be that as it may, there are plenty of situations that could've been avoided had you stopped to consider your options," Snape replied, trying his best not to lose his temper with the infuriating Gryffindor.

"All I ask of you is to consider those options properly the next time something like this - Harry would you stop sulking as if you were five?"

"I'm not a child!" Harry protested.

"Perhaps not," Snape said sadly. "But you have been forced to grow up much too fast. Even if it seems that the wizarding community is relying solely on you, Harry, you must be aware that there are many people fighting the Dark Lord every day. Not everything falls on you.

"I'm not going to deny that this is your fight as well but you are not needed at the moment. What I need from you right now is to go to school like a normal student. You should study and play Quidditch and get into the normal kind of trouble that average teenagers get into.

"I just need you to stop actively seeking out Lord Voldemort. Especially until you've mastered Occlumency."

Harry had a hard time processing everything Snape had said. He was feeling several emotions at once and didn't know what to make of himself. He was annoyed that Snape didn't trust him to take care of himself, angry at the implication that he was actively looking for danger and touched that Snape would care enough about him to tell him to be careful. He was also slightly distrustful about it. Since when did Snape care about anyone, let alone Harry? Maybe Dumbledore set him up to this.

But the most important albeit small part of his emotions was hope. Could it be that finally, someone was looking at him as if he was something more than the poster child for the war against Voldemort? Could it be that Snape really, truly cared for who Harry was? He had friends that did but a teacher? Never!

"I understand, Professor," Harry finally replied after much consideration. "I will be more careful."

"Thank you, Harry, that is all I ask of you," Snape said. "That, and an Outstanding on your Potions OWL."

Harry chuckled, "I have to go now, Professor," he said reluctantly. "My friends are expecting me."

"Very well," Snape agreed as he vanished his tea set. "Don't go running off into the forbidden forest or anything."

"Are you sure?" Harry tried as he picked up his bag. "I thought 'forbidden' was more of a suggestion."

"Enter that forest and be awarded years worth of detention," Snape threatened. When Harry's grin didn't falter he added. "With Filch," which caused Harry to flee his office as fast as those first years had fled Umbridge's class.

* * *

"Most of you already know about the defensive spell 'Protego,'" Harry addressed his DA group. "It is a very useful defensive spell that reflects the opponent's hex or curse. However –" Harry motioned for Ron to stand across from him. "- It is less useful when you are fighting multiple opponents." This time he motioned for Hermione to stand behind him.

"It is not unlikely for you to be attacked by more than one enemy. It has happened to me multiple times already which is why I've attempted to create a modified version."

The group of students started to whisper amongst themselves in obvious excitement.

"Pay attention please," Harry chided sternly and everyone stopped talking. "Ron, Hermione, when you're ready."

Harry could not see it but Hermione signalled the timing of their joint attack to Ron so within seconds both of them shouted "Stupefy!" in unison.

But Harry was faster. "Protego Infractem!"

Two shields floated around Harry, both of which deflected the offensive spells easily. Ron was hit by his own Stupefy but Hermione dodged hers.

Harry fixed Ron with a quick Rennervate and grinned thankfully at the applauding crowd.

"Okay, I want you all in groups of three. Try and focus on the presence of both of your opponents. Divide your attention and imagine dividing your shield just so. Begin."

_This_ was what DADA needed to be. Harry took in the scene of his creation eagerly and helped people out when they needed it. Ron and Hermione were still practising the spell themselves but Harry had already mastered it in his own time. When it came to duelling, hexes and defensive spells, he was as natural as he was on a broom.

If he didn't make it into the Auror program, he could always apply to be a defence teacher. Harry chuckled to himself when he thought about it. Maybe not. That position was cursed.

After a couple of hours of practice, most of the students had the spell down. A couple of them needed some more practice.

"When you find the time, please practice this some more. We will use this spell in our future classes so you will be needing it," Harry instructed.

"Professor Potter," George called out as he raised his hand.

Harry rolled his eyes. "What is it, George?"

"Will you still be doing this?"

"Yeah," Fred chimed in. "Umbridge is gone now."

Harry thought about that. "Well, we don't really know if the next DADA teacher is going to be any good. Of course, if it's someone like Lupin we probably won't be needing –"

"I would love to keep doing this, really!" George interrupted.

A couple of the other students chimed in encouragingly.

"I've never learned more than I have from you, Harry," Neville said. "At least when it comes to anything but herbology."

"I want to learn more of these wicked spells!" Fred called out. "Did you create any more of your own?"

"It is nice that everyone can come together like this," the dreamy voice of Luna contributed. "Professor Dumbledore would surely love the house unity this encourages."

Harry looked at his friends who gave him heartening nods.

"Well, if you really want me to, I can continue to do this," Harry agreed. "Even if the new DADA teacher is a good one."

"Well done, Harry," Fred and George said in unison as they got up and patted Harry on the back.

Harry revelled in the positivity the students exuded and found himself to be happy that these meetings would continue. And if their DADA teacher was any good, they might all end up getting O's for their DADA OWL because of the combined efforts.

* * *

Monday morning began with the usual breakfast routine except for the fact that there was no breakfast. This could mean one of two things. Either the house-elves all got collectively sick again or Dumbledore had an announcement to make.

The latter option was the correct one.

"I'm sure you're all up to speed with the developments surrounding Dolores Umbridge," Dumbledore announced. "She has thankfully been locked up in Azkaban and will not be going near any children again."

Loud applause broke out from all the house tables, including Slytherin. Dumbledore allowed it for a while before raising his hand. The noise stopped almost immediately. Harry saw Snape sitting there with a mask of disdain. The other teachers all seemed very happy, though.

"Naturally, this left us with an opening for our Defence Against the Dark Art's teacher," Dumbledore continued. "Which I am proud to announce has been eagerly fulfilled by your new professor Finneas Knots."

A somewhat stocky, middle-aged wizard appeared from the side doors rather sheepishly and waved towards the students. His auburn hair was thinning and his hairline had clearly receded. A jovial twinkle graced his green eyes.

"Please help me in giving professor Knots a warm welcome," Dumbledore said as he started clapping. Most of the teachers did so as well except for Snape who just shot Knots a dark look. Harry didn't think it was feigned.

Only a few students clapped but stopped quickly when they noticed that few others joined in.

Knots sat down next to Snape as that was the only seat that was still vacant. The poor man started talking to Snape, clearly not aware of what was to befall him. Harry wished he could hear what he was saying.

Snape smirked and said something very short that left Knots somewhat dazed. After that, he didn't attempt to strike up a conversation with Snape again. McGonagall shot the Potions Master a disapproving look which Snape expertly ignored. Harry had to do his best not to laugh at the comical performance.

* * *

Knots ended up being the most annoying teacher Harry had ever had. He was not a malicious man and didn't seem to have any bad intentions but Harry knew from lesson one that he would not get along with him.

"Please all turn to page 254 of your textbooks, ladies, and gentlemen," Knots said.

They all did as he said only to wind up on a page about the killing curse, namely Avada Kedavra. When the students fixed their eyes back on Knots, the man's excitement was obvious.

"As you all very well know, we have a celebrity among us today!" He said happily. Harry groaned as he sank back in his seat.

"Mr Harry Potter, would you kindly join us up front, if you please!" Harry sighed heavily and did as he was told.

"I don't need to tell you that Mr. Potter is the reason for You-Know-who's demise which happened fourteen years ago," Knots pointed at Harry's scar as Harry glared at him menacingly. "Now this scar is proof of him having survived the killing curse as the only person on earth to have _ever_ done so."

Harry brushed his fringe across his scar in a pitiful effort to rebel against the teacher but the man didn't seem dejected in the slightest.

"Mr Potter, if I might ask, do you remember anything about that night?" He asked curiously. "Anything at all?"

Harry just stared at him, his expression one of complete horror. "Excuse me?" He asked, not sure that the man had just dared to ask him that.

"No, of course, you don't," Knots continued. "You were far too young. A pity really. You may sit down Mr Harry Potter."

Knots continued his lecture about the fall of Voldemort and the workings of the killing curse, never paying attention to the way that Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. At least he didn't demonstrate the curse so he was better than Umbridge in that regard.

After class was over, Harry was asked to stay behind.

"A moment of your time please, Mr Potter," Knots asked.

"Go on," Harry said to his friends. "I'll be right there."

As he sauntered back to Knot's desk he was sure that he didn't want to have anything more to do with the overenthusiastic professor. Unfortunately for him, the man held out a piece of parchment and a quill.

"Please Mr Potter, if you could do me the honour of giving me your autograph," he pleaded. "I would be most appreciative. I am a very big fan you see. I must've read every article there was to read about you. I remember when You-Know-Who had just been destroyed. I was –"

Harry decided to sign the blasted piece of paper so he could get out of there. He tuned out most of the professor's rambling while he did.

"- So when I was offered a job to teach here I said yes immediately. It is an honour to be able to teach the great Harry Potter. Not that you need it of course. I know all about the time when –"

"Not to be rude or anything, Professor," Harry interrupted harshly. "But I need to get to class."

"Of course, Harry! I can call you Harry, right? Best be off then."

No. He was not going to like professor Knots.

* * *

_We have touched a few subjects in this chapter, haven't we? Oh, the things I have planned._

_Please tell me what you all think. Your feedback is very much appreciated._

**Last revised on 09/07/2020**


	26. Chapter 26

_Sorry for skipping a day. I was engulfed in reading an amazing fic and I couldn't stop reading. You know how it is._

_Thank you all for your reviews. I hadn't realized how much Knots resembled Creevey but I suppose he sort of does. Oh well, everything has its reasons_.

* * *

**Chapter 26**

The following DADA class had not been much better than the first. As a matter of fact, it had been decidedly worse. Knots had brought the entire mixed class of Gryffindors and Slytherins outside with him which, at first glance, seemed awesome because it was a gorgeous day to be practising spells outside.

It seemed even better when they were walking towards the Quidditch pitch. Harry was starting to feel confident that Knots had gotten over the hero worship and was actually planning on teaching something useful.

His hopes remained when they approached the pit. Several walls were erected out of stone, forming a ring inside of the Quidditch pitch. From behind the wall, a ferocious roar could be heard. Several students backed off at its ferocity despite the walls.

"I have something quite exciting planned for you today, class!" Knots exclaimed. "Behind this wall waits a full-grown mountain troll."

Some of the girls gasped while others tried their best to peer over the wall.

"Now as you all probably know," Knots continued. "Harry Potter defeated one of these in his very first year!" Harry groaned loudly. This again?

Knots ignored the sound of obvious disagreement and continued lecturing. "Later that _same_ year, Harry has been able to stop the Dark Lord once again by going through a series of trials that included yet another mountain troll."

"That second one was already defeated," Hermione noted. "Harry had nothing to do with it."

"And what a pity that was, Ms Granger," Knots replied. " For what a battle that would have been. But fear not! Today we will find out exactly how amazing Harry's skills are!"

Harry was very much aware of how the attention of everyone in the class was directed at him. With a quick glance, he could see Malfoy stare at him maliciously while the other Slytherins were making jokes about how this DADA teacher was finally going to kill Harry.

And Harry feared that they were right. "Professor, I don't think this is safe," Harry argued. As if underlining Harry's point, the mountain troll hit the wall hard causing it and the surrounding area to tremble harshly.

"Nonsense Harry!" Knots argued as he started pushing Harry towards the makeshift gate in the wall. "You have bested the Dark Lord multiple times. You can take on one mountain troll."

"Professor, please reconsider," Hermione tried. "Most adults can't even take a mountain troll single-handedly."

"Miss Granger, one more word and I will be deducting house points," Knots snapped. "Practical experience is better than theoretical. And besides, I will be right there should anything go wrong."

Hermione shut her mouth dejectedly and shot Harry an apologetic look.

"Now Harry, go inside. If you win, I will award 50 points to Gryffindor," Knots offered. This caused Harry's fellow Gryffindors to start shouting encouragingly, practically begging Harry to fight. Knots certainly knew what buttons to push.

"Fine," Harry grumbled, ignoring the booing coming from the Slytherins.

"Okay, everyone else, climb up here," Knots said, barely able to contain his excitement. He transfigured a stairwell into the edge of the wall, rushing upwards as he was followed by the exited Gryffindors and Slytherins, though both groups were excited for very different reasons.

When Harry stepped inside the coral, he was amazed by the sheer size of the troll. The one he had faced in the bathroom had truly been a small one.

As soon as the tiny eyes of the huge troll saw Harry, the being sluggishly approached him as his club dragged across the ground.

It seemed to be perfectly calm when it suddenly tried to grab Harry with its free hand. Harry jumped aside nimbly, rolling away from the grabby hand as he cast a quick spell. "Stupefy!"

Rather than stun the troll, it had merely pushed it back a few feet, angering it in the process. The tiny eyes narrowed as it raised its club this time. Harry heard the Slytherins egging the troll on but tried his best to ignore them. He saw a boulder on the ground just behind the troll and got an idea.

"Accio boulder!" He called out and ducked aside as the stone crashed into the troll, causing it to slump forward.

"Did you see that?!" Knots yelled excitedly. "That is the Potter ingenuity for you." The Gryffindors cheered in agreement.

But the troll was not yet finished in the least. As it righted itself, it tried to grab Harry again who was not able to dodge him completely. He felt the heavy hand lock itself around his right leg and gasped as he felt an immense pressure.

The troll lifted Harry upwards until Harry was high enough to stare right into his stupid eyes.

"Eat him!" Zabini shouted.

"Help him, Professor!" Hermione yelled in a panic.

"I'm sure he can save himself, Ms Granger," Knots replied. "Have some faith."

"Conjuntivito!" Harry shouted. The troll grabbed at his eyes as he screamed in horror, releasing Harry as he did. This would have been great had Harry not been suspended almost fifteen feet into the air. As he plummeted down, he attempted to stretch his arms in order to keep his head safe which sort of succeeded had it not been for the sickening crack he heard in his left arm which was immediately followed by a rush of blinding pain.

He heard someone shout his name but was too dazed to respond. After a few more seconds, he noticed that the troll was stomping around in a blind fury. The audience uttered a collective gasp as Harry rolled aside before a giant foot smashed his head to a bloody pulp.

Harry looked up to the stands to see if he should expect any help from Knots but saw that the professor in question was holding onto an aggravated Ron who looked ready to jump into the pit.

Harry groaned as he pushed himself upright, watching the troll swat air with his club. He waited carefully until the club was raised high into the air again and shouted, "Expelliarmus!"

The club flew straight into the air and went over the wall. _Drat_. Harry had hoped for a repeat of year one. No such luck today.

"Well done, Harry!" Knots shouted from the stands. Harry glared at him but the Professor seemed unaffected.

"Eyes on the troll, my boy!" Harry turned his gaze back to the troll just in time to dodge another foot which was no mean feat with an injured arm. His leg didn't feel too good either but he dared not glance at it right now.

"Reducto!" Harry cried, aiming at the troll's feet. The troll yelped in pain and started swaying somewhat as if his legs could hardly hold up his weight anymore. Harry repeated the spell and the troll fell over, howling in pain.

Harry was breathing hard and stumbled towards the head of the beast as it was still rubbing its eyes frantically.

At point-blank range, Harry muttered 'Stupefy' and felt relief wash over him as the troll was finally knocked unconscious.

Applause broke out from the rest of the class. That is to say from the Gryffindor side. Knots finally let go of Ron who rushed down the stairs and into the pit.

"Harry!" He yelled, "Are you alright?" He reached Harry and allowed him to lean on his shoulder. "You are absolutely mental, you know that?"

"Me?" Harry replied. "What about Knots? He almost got me killed!"

Ron and Harry shuffled out of the pit as quickly as they could, worried that the troll could wake up again at any moment. They were greeted by their housemates who seemed to be either delighted at Harry's victory or concerned for his injuries.

"Can't one of _us_ have a go, Professor?" A Slytherin girl asked. "So we can also have a shot at getting those points?"

"Absolutely not, Ms Bullstrode," Knots replied. "I would not dream of endangering you like that. No one but Harry Potter could have pulled that off."

The Slytherins collectively started complaining and threatening Knots when he shouted. "Twenty points from Slytherin."

They stopped shouting but were glaring daggers at both Harry and Knots.

"As for you, Harry," Knots said, beaming happily. "You earned fifty points for Gryffindor. Well done." Knots turned his attention to the entire class next. "As for your assignment this week, I expect a five-foot essay on The philosopher's stone and the trials Harry Potter had to overcome in order to get to it. Don't leave out his confrontation with You-Know-Who and replace the confrontation with the troll with what you have seen today.

"Harry, naturally you are exempt from this assignment. Dismissed!"

Harry felt miserable and thought that he was about to pass out. His injuries were not the only source of his discomfort, though. He hated being put in the spotlight and his new professor seemed to know no greater pleasure than to put Harry right into it.

"Oh, Harry, could you hold on for a second. Ms Granger, Mr Weasley, you may go."

"Sir," Hermione argued. "Harry is injured. He needs to go to the infirmary."

"Yes Ms Granger, I do have eyes." Knots replied coldly. "I will take him. You go on to your next class."

After throwing one more hesitant glance over their shoulders, Ron and Hermione did as they were told, leaving Harry at the mercy of Knots once more.

"Let's start walking, Harry," Knots said, happily draping Harry's good arm over his own shoulder as they went. "Go ahead and lean on me. That's it. You were brilliant out there, you know."

"Thanks, professor," Harry replied sullenly. "But I'd rather not face another mountain troll next time."

Knots chuckled either ignoring or not noticing the annoyance in Harry's voice. "Of course not, Harry. Don't you worry. But there is something I would like to discuss with you."

"Oh?" Harry replied quietly as he did his best not to hurl. The pain in his arm was getting worse and was making him nauseous.

"I was wondering if you would like some private tutoring tomorrow evening. I would be happy to teach you some extracurricular spells," Knots proposed happily. "I know they will be of use to you since You-Know-Who can't seem to stay away."

"I already have an extra lesson with Professor Snape tomorrow," Harry responded dryly. He felt so horrible. He didn't need to look in the mirror to know that his face was white as a ghost.

"Is that so?" Knots said sadly. "Well, how about Saturday?"

"Quidditch," came Harry's short reply. If he needed to answer any more questions he was surely going to expel his breakfast.

"Sunday?" Knots persisted. This time, Harry shook his head. He was leaning on Knots more and more without even realizing it. They stepped through the front doors into the hall where Snape stood waiting with his arms crossed.

For a moment, Harry recognized a glint of worry in his eyes but it was quickly replaced by a menacing scowl.

"What a fine way to start your classes, Finneas," Snape growled. "I see you are continuing the Defence teacher's tradition of trying to kill Harry Potter."

"I would never!" Knots replied, pulling Harry a bit closer to him as if to protect the boy from the dour Potions Master. Harry groaned in response. "Harry has valiantly volunteered to take on a mountain troll and emerged victoriously!"

Knots seemed much too pleased by this and missed the angry glare Harry shot him entirely. He had not volunteered! He was coerced.

"That _does_ sound like a stunt Mr Potter would pull," Snape said with a smirk.

"Oh, Severus, now that I have you here," Knots said as he tried to steer away from an uncomfortable conversation. "I was thinking that you could drop whatever lesson you have with Harry tomorrow so he can join me instead."

Harry couldn't even protest anymore. His head was starting to feel too heavy and his eyelids were drooping. A grey haze was starting to fill the edge of his sight as his nausea peeked.

"I suggest we talk about this later," Snape interjected the man's ramblings. "Potter looks about ready to drop dead."

Harry had wanted to retort something snarky but all that managed to escape his lips was, "Git."

* * *

As Harry woke up in his accustomed bed in the familiar hospital wing he groaned in annoyance. Why did this keep happening to him?

"Harry! You're awake!" The overexcited voice of Knots sounded. "I knew you would be fine. You are, after all, The-Boy-Who-Lived!"

"Clearly," Snarled another voice. Harry spotted Snape's dark gaze and rolled his eyes.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, his question directed at both professors.

"Knots was unable to locate the hospital wing on his own," Snape droned. "And it was quite apparent that you needed to be here. We wouldn't want to lose our Chosen One, now would we?" His voice was sarcastic and unpleasant but Knots nodded in agreement.

"Quite right, Harry!" He said. "You are very important to us all, after all. Now Severus, as I was saying, it's not quite fair that you are spending all this extra time with Harry for these extra lessons."

"For once, I tend to agree with you. I would much rather spend my time on more important things," Snape said coldly, glaring down at the shorter DADA teacher. "Unfortunately, the headmaster has given me no choice in the matter."

"Surely, there must be room for extra defence lessons as well?" Knots argued. Harry groaned again.

"I don't need extra lessons, Professor," He said as he glanced at Snape, practically begging him to take Knots out of there.

"Nonsense, Harry," Knots disagreed. "You need to be prepared!"

Snape –who seemed completely done with the conversation – turned around and swept out of the infirmary without so much as a second glance.

"A bit scary that one, isn't he?" Knots confided.

"Please just go!" Harry begged. His limbs were still throbbing and he was not in the mood for this.

"Oh dear, he's delirious," Knots muttered. He frantically started to hop all over the room shouting, "Poppy, Poppy!" until the Mediwitch made a very annoyed appearance.

"Finneas!" she admonished. "What makes you think it is appropriate to shout near a patient that clearly needs his rest?"

"I fear Harry's not feeling too well," Knots said.

"Well he wouldn't, now would he?" Pomfrey replied. "After being beaten half to death by a mountain troll."

"Yes well, I like to see it as half alive," Knots replied cheerily.

"Out!" Pomfrey yelled as she pointed at the door.

Knots didn't move. "But I –"

"Out, I said!" Pomfrey repeated. Harry couldn't help cut chuckle softly when Knots hung his head and childishly exited the room.

"Thank you so much!" Harry thanked Pomfrey profusely.

"Yes well, you can thank me by not coming here as often, Potter," Pomfrey chided. "This is getting ridiculous."

Harry sighed. "Yes, Madame Pomfrey. I'll try."

Pomfrey huffed and soundlessly shoved a potion in Harry's direction which he gratefully drank.

* * *

"He is nothing more than a moronic lunatic, Albus," Severus said severely as he slammed his hands down on Dumbledore's desk. The ancient wizard hurriedly grabbed hold of his dish of lemon drops to keep Snape from accidentally – or not so accidentally – breaking it.

"I understand that he seems a tad overzealous, yes," Dumbledore agreed. "But I am sure Finneas means no harm."

"Overzealous?" Snape replied incredulously. "Albus, Potter was severely injured!"

"Is he alright?" Dumbledore asked as his blue eyes filled with concern.

"The bone in his arm had snapped cleanly in two," Snape explained, keeping his voice as level as he could. "That was easy enough to fix, but his leg was damaged more severely. His nerve endings were damaged and blood flow had almost ceased. Had that moron dilly-dallied any longer, Potter could have lost his leg."

"That is terrible, indeed," Dumbledore agreed. "I will make sure to have a lengthy conversation with Finneas about keeping the appearance of dangerous creatures to a minimum."

"Albus, really. Is that all you're going to do?" Snape asked, barely containing his anger. "When Draco was attacked by that Hippogryph, two years ago, the beast was sentenced to death and Hagrid got in a lot of trouble."

A sad realisation dawned on Snape as he chose the next words carefully. "Or is it because Potter has no parents to advocate for his safety that Knots can just get away with this?"

"Honestly, Severus, mistakes happen," Dumbledore said sternly. "Students in your class have been sent to the infirmary quite often as well, as I recall."

"Yes, but that has always been due to their own stupidity," Snape spat.

"Furthermore – " Dumbledore continued, "you seem to be taking on the role of concerned parent yourself, are you not?"

Snape was slightly taken aback by that. He quickly regained his composure. "Well, someone should."

"You are, of course, correct," Dumbledore replied sadly. He then perked up as lights sparkled with renewed excitement in his eyes. "That reminds me, Severus. It would appear that Vernon and Petunia Dursley have been located."

Snape snorted. "Well, that's a shame."

"Would you like to know where they were found?" Dumbledore asked gleefully, even though Snape was fully aware that Dumbledore already knew that Snape would not be surprised.

"They were sitting in a rowboat in the middle of the Atlantic ocean if you can imagine."

* * *

"I will be attempting to break through your initial defences more aggressively, Harry," Snape explained.

"Already?" Harry asked, concerned that he was not ready for it yet.

"Yes. You need to keep challenging yourself lest you become complacent," Snape explained. "Now steady yourself so we can get started."

Harry sighed as he closed his eyes in order to try and get the picture of a circle firmly set into his mind. When he was ready, he opened his eyes and met Snape's.

Snape dove into Harry's mind with relative ease. He had suspected as much when he decided to put more force behind his attack. But it was crucial that Harry realized just how juvenile his defences still were.

He passed a few memories as he called some forth at random, not really seeing anything that new or remarkable. When he saw a flash of green light, he steered clear of it.

As he was sifting through the myriad of memories and emotions, he saw something that stood out from all the rest. It was an area in Harry's mind which appeared completely domed off from the rest of the boy's cognizance. The arching wall that covered it was a clear and less than subtle indication of something Harry wanted to protect be it on purpose or not.

But the wall was metaphorical at best and Snape had absolutely no problem venturing forth. He allowed himself to be sucked into the memory and watched the stupidly benign scene take place.

_Harry was sprinting at top speed. His face was flushed and his hair was sticky with sweat, indicating that he had been running for a while. But was he running away or towards something? The emotions the boy felt were conflicted as if they were both true._

_Harry was wearing a tattered scarf and the tiny puffs coming out of his mouth each time he exhaled were proof of the cold weather. Yet he wore no coat or even a sweater. His face was bruised and Snape could see how a large cut began right underneath his left eye, only to disappear underneath the scarf._

_Snape watched how Harry came to a stop in front of an apartment complex which appeared to be nestled next to a small park where children were playing. Snape could feel the intense relief that overcame Harry as he stopped running but before he could gaze further he was forcefully expelled from the frankly boring memory. _

When Snape opened his eyes, he found Harry on the floor, panting like an overheated dog.

"What was that memory, Harry?" Snape asked, wondering why the boy would try to set aside something so tedious.

"Nothing," Harry spat with an anger Snape had not seen from him in a while. He raised a curious eyebrow.

"It appeared to matter to you," Snape said.

"It is of no concern to you, Snape," Harry growled dangerously. Snape frowned, momentarily ignoring the highly disrespectful way Harry had spoken to him and focusing on the intense rage the boy obviously felt.

"You realize that being so emotional does not help in your lessons," Snape droned as if he was giving one of his everyday lectures.

"I wouldn't be so _emotional_ if you would stop harassing me about things I want to keep to myself!" Harry shouted.

Snape regarded Harry as the boy clumsily got to his feet. He waved his hand and a teapot with two cups appeared on his desk. "Tea?"

Harry groaned in frustration. "I said I don't want to talk about it."

"You don't have to," Snape agreed. "There are many other things worth discussing, don't you think?"

Harry sighed in what could only be interpreted as relief and accepted the offered spot at Snape's desk. He poured himself a cup of tea and was sipping it as Snape sat down in his much more comfortable chair.

"I spoke with professor Dumbledore," Snape revealed. "About Professor Knots."

"Yeah, Knots is nuts," Harry exclaimed.

Snape chuckled. "Well worded indeed," he said approvingly but then his expression turned more fierce. "I think it would be best that next time he invites you to fight a mountain troll, you decline."

"I know," Harry grumbled. "But he promised fifty points if I won."

"Is that all your life is worth?" Snape countered incredulously.

"To some of my housemates it clearly is," Harry replied bitterly. "As soon as Knots mentioned the points they were all shouting at me to get in there."

"I see," Snape said as he took in the boy's obvious resentment. "Professor Dumbledore will be having a word with Professor Knots. He will refrain from setting dangerous beasts on you for the moment."

"What about the ridiculous essays he's having everyone write?" Harry asked.

Snape raised a curious eyebrow. "I confess that I'm not sure what you mean."

"Everyone needs to write an essay about the time I stopped Voldemort in my first year," Harry exclaimed, ignoring Snape's flinching at the mention of the name. "Except me, of course. I lived it so I obviously know what happened."

An angry scowl met Snape's neutral one. "People have been harassing me all day for details for their essay. It's maddening."

"Not enjoying the celebrity life very much, are we?" Snape grinned in slight amusement.

"Not particularly," Harry said as he crossed his arms dejectedly. "Even though you think differently."

Snape sighed. "I know what I said in the past, Harry, but I realize now that that's not true."

Harry snorted.

"You know, a cunning Slytherin would probably make good use of a professor that is so obviously a fan," Snape said cleverly.

Harry snorted again. "Yeah, but I'm a Gryffindor. And I don't want anything from Knots."

"Maybe not yet," Snape agreed. "But there might come a time."

"I really don't want to use my name to get things, Severus," Harry sighed.

"No, I suppose you don't" Snape relented. "A Gryffindor true and true."

"Do you suppose he'll set a basilisk on me next time?" Harry chuckled.

"Maybe you should ask to borrow the sword of Gryffindor just in case," Snape offered.

"Ha! Knots would probably faint from excitement if I walked into class carrying that thing."

"Hmm, I don't think Professor Dumbledore would appreciate having to find a third Defence teacher this year," Snape said.

"Well, he is better than Umbridge at least," Harry shrugged.

Snape fidgeted a bit with his empty teacup as if trying to find the words to say something.

"Trying your hand at divination, Severus?" Harry asked jokingly as he caught Snape staring at the residue in his cup.

"Heavens, no!" Snape said in alarm, banishing the cup as if to dispel any such notions. "Actually, Harry, I was wondering what you were planning to do for Christmas. Do you usually stay here?"

"I'm not sure yet, why do you ask?" Harry replied.

"If you were here over the Christmas Holidays, we would have a lot more time practising Occlumency. It would probably help your progress immensely."

"Yeah, I don't know," Harry said, now fidgeting with his own cup. "I think I would prefer to do something a bit more fun over the holidays."

"Don't you think it might be prudent for you to learn this skill as fast as you can?" Snape nudged. "How have your nightmares been?"

"Better," Harry lied.

"I don't need to peer into your mind to spot that lie," Snape sneered. "It's written all over your face."

"I'll think about it, okay?" Harry snarled. "Goodnight, Professor."

Snape watched Harry put his cup down with a tad more force than was strictly necessary and sighed as the boy swept out of the room.

If he kept wearing his heart on his sleeve like that, Occlumency would become increasingly difficult for him. He really did need the extra time that the holidays would provide. The Dark Lord might not have realized their connection yet but he soon would and Snape could only imagine the horrors that might befall the child when that happened. At a time like that, Snape would also no longer be safe. All he could do was his best and rely on Harry to do the same.

* * *

_And that's all for now. I know exactly where I'm going and am so excited to reveal the next bit of juicy drama. But I can't go too fast. I have to build it up._

_Please do grant me the pleasure of your reviews. I will cherish them forever._

_Thanks for reading!_

**Last revised on 09/07/2020**


	27. Chapter 27

_Hurray! I've reached 300 reviews thanks to you all. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I'm so excited about the coming proceedings that I finished this chapter before noon (over here) but I'll wait just a few more hours to post it. _

_I hope you'll enjoy it._

* * *

**Chapter 27**

Harry was roaming around the room of requirement as his fellow students were trying to produce Patroni. He didn't have access to a dementor to practice on, but he found it to be a reassuring thought for the DA members to at least know how to defend themselves from one.

The multitude of extracurricular events Harry was participating in was tiring him out. But he found that his exhaustion dissipated completely when he was teaching the DA.

The last few DADA lessons had made it abundantly clear to Harry that he could not stop teaching his fellow students defence. The new professor didn't deny Voldemort's return and was at least somewhat more practical than Umbridge but Harry could not fathom how history lessons about his school career were going to help anyone out.

He nodded proudly when he saw Hermione's corporeal Patronus of an otter. Of course, she would get the hang of the technicalities first. He only hoped that she would be able to cast the spell when in the presence of a dementor as well.

Ron's Patronus took a bit longer to reveal itself but Harry couldn't help but smile when he saw the small dog run across the room.

It took a prolonged lesson that nobody wanted to quit prematurely until they got the hang of the spell. That meant that by the time they were finished for the day, it was long past curfew.

Harry took out his Marauders map and started directing small groups of students to leave for their dorm rooms. Only when everyone else had been able to get back undetected, he donned himself and his two friends in his invisibility cloak and went back himself.

The journey was not a long one and normally they would have been able to get back without a problem but today was slightly different. Just outside of the common room they witnessed an argument between two Professors. One short and stocky, another long and lean.

"I am quite certain that Potter does not require your vigilance, Finneas," Snape said darkly. "If anything, it is rather suspicious for a teacher to lie in wait like this."

"I'm not lying in wait!" Knots sputtered, clearly nervous under the Potions Master's peering gaze. "It's just that Harry gets into trouble so easily that -well- I wanted to prevent any further problems for him."

Snape peered into Knots' eyes with such ferocity that Harry was sure he was using Legilimency on the unsuspecting Professor.

"I don't suppose that rather than stopping Mr Potter from going on his next arduous quest, you would offer your services to go with him instead?" Snape droned. "A valiant crusade, I'm sure but I very much doubt that the boy will require your particular skill set." Snape spat those last words in a very menacing, dark tone that made Ron shiver underneath the cloak.

"I would never!" Knots defended himself. "Though I would protect Harry if the necessity ever arose of course."

"Is that so?" Snape sneered. "I suppose you would raise your wand against the Dark Lord himself if such an opportunity arose, would you?"

"If I had to, yes." Knots said with such honest resolve that Harry felt a twinge of sympathy and respect for the man.

Snape shoved the man into a wall, making the Fat Lady jump in astonishment. "Listen here, Finneas," He growled. "Potter gets into enough trouble on his own, as it is. He does not need a useless Defence teacher to drag him off into peril saying he would face the Dark Lord himself when he clearly doesn't know what he speaks of."

"I know plenty," Knots replied with fierce determination.

"Indeed," Snape snarled. "You made sure to inspect every little bit of Potter's life, didn't you? But did you ever stop to consider that the other students don't wish to become part of the boy's fan club?"

"I'm sure that I don't know what you're talking about, Severus," Knots replied. Harry noted that the fear he had for Snape was dissipating quickly as it made room for a sense of pride.

"An essay on the proceedings of his first year?" Snape growled. "Have you completely lost your mind?"

"I'm certain that I have not." Knots argued. "The biggest threat we are being faced with today is You-Know-Who. What better way to learn to defend ourselves than to study the boy who has done it multiple times."

"By sheer, dumb luck," Snape argued. Harry felt a twinge of annoyance at those words but knew that his teacher was right of course.

"No one is _that_ lucky," Knots said in admiration, "He is quite skilled." Harry noticed the man's gaze darken just a smidgen. "Of course, I'm sure you are aware of that yourself."

Snape let go of Knots and stared at him as if he was some sort of puzzle. "I am not sure what you are referring to."

"All those extra lessons!" Knots exclaimed a tad loudly for the late hour. "I don't know what you're teaching the boy but I know his grades and his potion skills are exemplary! What is it exactly you are doing with him?"

Snape's eyes narrowed. "I am not at liberty to discuss those lessons, nor do I have the desire."

"Well that's the easy answer, isn't it?" Knots accused. "From what I hear, you two loathe each other. So why would Potter willingly undergo whatever you do to him?"

"I don't _do_ anything to him," Snape said icily. "And I'm not sure what you're implying, Finneas."

The dark, dangerous tone in Snape's voice would have made anyone, child or adult squirm. Knots seemed highly uncomfortable and Harry wanted nothing more than to enter the common room and escape from this conversation. But there was no way of doing that undetected.

"Nothing, Severus," Knots finally stumbled. "But you are probably not happy with these lessons yourself, seeing how you hate him and all – For which I'm sure you have your reasons!" Knots added fervently as his gaze glanced momentarily to Snape's left arm. "Surely I am in a position to teach the lessons he requires as well. I am, after all, well versed in a variety of skills and spells."

"I highly doubt that you would be able to," Snape growled. "And I know that the headmaster would not allow you to."

"Is that so?" Knots frowned. "Perhaps if I can persuade him?"

"Be my guest," Snape replied flatly. " But in the meantime, I suggest you leave this hallway and return to your chambers."

"As you wish, Severus," Knots sighed and he walked off, glancing over to Snape one last time only to be met with a long, unrelenting stare.

For a moment, Snape turned his head towards Harry and seemed to glare right at him. Harry felt Ron freeze against him as the three of them stopped breathing, the suspense thick in the air. But then, he finally turned around and swept off towards the dungeons.

When the swish of his billowing robes could no longer be heard, Harry whispered 'Horntail' and stumbled inside as the portrait opened.

"What was that?" Hermione asked in a loud whisper.

"I don't know which one of the two was the bigger git," Ron said, thoroughly confused.

"Professor Snape did nothing wrong, Ron," Hermione chided. "Though I suppose he didn't have to be so rough about it."

"Who knew Snape would come to your rescue, huh?" Ron asked Harry dumbfoundedly. "But I suppose that he hates Knots more than he hates you."

"He doesn't hate Harry, Ron," Hermione rolled her eyes. "He's giving him Occlumency lessons, isn't he?"

"Oh, _that's_ what that was about," Ron said stupidly. "Knots made it sound as if something weird was going on."

"Yeah, don't go there, Ron," Harry finally chimed in. "I just hope that Knots doesn't actually know Occlumency."

"You'd rather stick with Snape?" Ron said incredulously. "At least Knots _likes_ you."

"Maybe, but he would be too busy taking my picture and documenting how green my eyes are to actually teach me something."

Ron chuckled. "Yeah if anything wonky was going on, it would be with _that_ guy."

"Ew, Ron, that's enough," Harry said, severely grossed out. "I'm going to bed. We want to be up bright and early for Hogsmeade, right?"

"I suppose," Ron yawned, stretching his arms above his head.

"Goodnight you two," Hermione said as she sauntered off towards her dormitory.

"'Night," the two boys chimed as they headed off to their own.

* * *

_A mountain troll as big as a flat was storming towards Harry. On his shoulders sat a very pleased looking Finneas Knots. Harry tried to run but he was walled in without a door in sight. He looked for his wand but saw that it was flung to the other side of the pit._

_Harry ducked a swing from the troll and noticed that Voldemort was comically perched on the troll's other shoulder, smirking maliciously._

"_How are you planning to kill him?" Knots asked Voldemort eagerly. "The killing curse, perhaps?"_

"_Too simple. Too fast," Voldemort replied. "No, Harry will suffer before I end him."_

"_How will you do that?" Knots asked him keenly. _

"_Ah, I will take away his friends," Voldemort sneered. With a wave of his hand, Ron and Hermione's dead bodies were dropped in the pit. The troll stomped on them, reducing their cold bodies to a pulp in a matter of seconds._

"_It's almost as if I'm forgetting something," Voldemort said thoughtfully. Knots was just taking in the onslaught with a smile on his face._

"_Oh, I know!" Voldemort waved his other hand and a chained Snape fell into the pit._

"_No!" Harry screamed, unable to move. When he looked down he saw snakes wrapped around his legs already. He hadn't seen them coming._

_Voldemort aimed his wand at Snape and with a horrific smile on his face he shouted, "Avada Kedavra!"_

* * *

Harry jolted upright, shivering from head to toe. He brought his hands to his face, wiping away tears he didn't even know he had been shedding.

What good did these Occlumency lessons even do? His nightmares were still running his nights and he was sick of it.

Harry sighed as he took the bottle that was waiting for him on his nightstand. A dose of Dreamless Sleep. It was the last one he had. After this, he would have to ask for more. Harry could only hope that his lessons would finally start paying off before he would be able to take another dose.

He drank the potion and expected to fall asleep into a not so peaceful slumber.

* * *

_The full moon stood out menacingly against the dark sky overhead. Harry smirked as he took in the unmistakable scent of blood._

_With his left hand, he was petting his beloved Nagini softly while he aimed his wand at a Death Eater with his right._

"_Why haven't you found it yet?" He hissed. He was angry with the man before him. "Haven't you asked Dumbledore?"_

"_I have, My Lord," the man pleaded. "But he won't tell me."_

_That was the wrong answer. "Crucio!"_

_Harry enjoyed seeing the man writhe in pain. The Death eater tried to keep himself from screaming but Harry would not release the curse until he finally did._

"_You have lost his trust," Harry purred. "Does this mean that you have lost your value, Severus? If you can't spy for me, what good are you?"_

"_I will do better, My Lord," Severus breathed in a pained voice. "I just need a bit more time."_

"_Unfortunately, I don't have much time or patience for you," Harry said coldly. "If you don't come back with valuable information next time, you will be punished."_

"_Of course, My Lord," Severus said. "Thank you for your mercy, My Lord."_

_Harry grinned, his anger making way for pleasure. "Good of you to understand, Severus. One more for the road, yes? Crucio!"_

* * *

Harry woke up with a jolt for the second time that night, but this time his scar hurt something fierce. It felt as if his head was on the verge of splitting open. He stumbled out of his bed with a loud thud, ignoring the stirrings of his fellow dormmates as he did.

Quickly untangling the sheets wrapped around his legs, he ran down the stairs and jumped out of the portrait, ignoring the confused exclamations from his dormmates.

That had _not_ been a dream. He was sure that the vision had been a reality. And he was worried about Snape. As he ran towards the dungeons, he completely ignored the possibility of being caught. Why did Snape have to be a spy? Why did he have to put himself through this every time? What if he got killed one night? Voldemort had clearly not been pleased. Harry had felt his anger. He wanted to kill Snape then and there. Punish him for his failures.

Harry breathed heavily as he finally saw the door that led to Snape's private quarters. And for a second he was starting to doubt his own resolve. What if it _had_ been just a dream? How angry would Snape be with Harry pounding on his door in the middle of the night? Wouldn't he be mad even if it had been a true vision?

Harry frowned as he steeled himself. If not for Snape, he needed to make sure for himself.

His knuckles rapped on the portrait loudly but no answer came. Harry knocked again in frustration when he was whirled around by a hand on his shoulder.

"Harry, what are you doing here?" A familiar voice accused. Harry stared right into the annoyingly bright eyes of Knots.

"Sleepwalking," Harry said blandly. That had to be the most stupid excuse uttered in the history of mankind. Knots certainly seemed to think so.

"And now the truth, if you will?"

Harry looked away. "I'm sorry, Professor. I know it's after curfew."

"That's beside the point, Harry." Knots said. He took hold of Harry's chin and forced him to look into his eyes. Harry hated it. He hated the man in front of him at that moment. When Snape had done the same thing, it had been out of concern but Knots seemed to have an agenda of his own.

"What makes you show up on Snape's doorstep in the middle of the night?" Knots asked, his gaze peering into Harry's and Harry could not help but notice how unintimidating that was. He was used to so much worse after all.

"_Professor_ Snape," Harry corrected without thinking. "And I need a potion," Harry replied, trying to sound sincere. "I couldn't sleep and I need a dreamless sleep potion."

How much longer was Knots going to hound him? He just wanted to know if Snape was okay. He tried to listen for any sound behind the portrait but could discern none.

"I'm sure you can find some in the Medical wing, Harry," Knots said sternly.

"Madame Pomfrey is out of the potion," Harry lied.

"Harry," Knots sighed. "What kind of hold does Professor Snape have on you?"

Harry blinked in surprise. "What?"

"You shouldn't be around him, you know," Knots explained. "I believe he is a Death Eater."

Harry didn't know how to respond to that so he just stared at Knots blankly.

"And Death Eaters can sometimes have some pretty dark desires," Knots continued. He fixed Harry's gaze with determination. "I just wouldn't want anything to happen to you, Harry."

Before Harry could reply, the portrait behind him swung open. He almost fell inside but was steadied by Knots grabbing his arm.

Forgetting all decorum, Harry turned around to come face to face with Snape. The man didn't look any worse for wear and Harry was starting to wonder if it had been a dream after all.

Snape allowed his gaze to wander over the scene that was taking place right outside of his chambers before addressing Knots. "While I understand that there are rumours going around that I don't partake in the habit of sleeping, I assure you that I very much do," he droned, addressing neither of the two perpetrators in particular. "This is particularly difficult with the two of you arguing with each other right outside my door."

Knots was staring at him with barely suppressed anger while Harry could only convey his utter relief.

"Apparently, the boy was expecting Dreamless Sleep potion from you, Severus," Knots said, his attempt to determine any dishonesty glaringly obvious.

Snape stared at Harry with a deep sense of malice for a few seconds before turning his attention to Knots. "I understand," he replied. "Thank you for delivering him to my door," And he motioned for Harry to come inside.

"Just a second, Severus," Knots said harshly. "Don't you think this is highly inappropriate?"

"I will not be handing out potions just because students ask for them, Finneas," Snape growled, clearly already tired of the conversation. "I will first discern if he can have the potion depending on a variety of factors."

"I demand to be present for this." Knots said firmly.

Snape dragged Harry inside. "I think not," he replied evenly and slammed the portrait shut in Knots' face.

He pushed Harry forward into the sitting room and fixed him with an angry glare.

"What are you doing?" He hissed angrily. "Knots already has it on for me. Why would you attract this sort of attention?"

"I know you're mad at me," Harry said with a big smile on his face. "But I'm just happy you're okay."

Snape's eyes softened as he took in the appearance of the boy in front of him. "You saw?"

Harry nodded, unable to speak because of the lump in his throat.

"I'm sorry you had to witness that," Snape said, as he took a potion out if his cabinet. "I'm okay. Thank you for your concern."

He started guiding Harry back towards the exit as he handed him a potion.

"But-" Harry protested.

"Professor Knots is most likely waiting for you," Snape explained. "I can't sit here and talk with you. Understand?"

Harry nodded as he took the potion. The portrait swung open and as expected, Knots was still there.

"A dreamless sleep potion is unnecessary for tonight," Snape told him coldly. "I gave him a strong calming draught. That should get him through the night." And without another word, Snape slammed the portrait shut and left Harry at the mercy of Knots.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Knots asked concernedly.

"Yes," Harry snapped as he walked back to the Gryffindor tower. Knots followed him.

"You know better than to wander the corridors at night, Harry," Knots chided lightly.

"So give me detention," Harry said flatly, eager to get away from Knots.

"Oh, heavens no," Knots replied. "I'm not giving you detention, Harry. I trust your instincts and you probably only break the rules when you deem it necessary."

That confused Harry a bit. "Er- thanks for the vote of confidence?"

"Any time, Harry!" Knots replied, clearly pleased with himself. "And on that note, should you ever require my help with anything – even if it's against the rules – don't hesitate to ask."

"I won't," Harry said. He was sure that he never would, though.

"Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, Professor," Harry replied as he climbed through the portrait once more. The pain in his scar had receded to a gentle throbbing and his worry had vanished at the sight of Snape. He drank the potion and was finally able to sleep through the rest of the night without waking up.

* * *

The following day, Harry was met with another unpleasant surprise as he and his friends were heading out of the gates towards Hogsmeade. McGonagall stopped him, looking particularly glum.

"I'm sorry Mr Potter but you won't be allowed to go today," She said.

"What?" Harry objected fiercely. "Why?"

McGonagall's eyes darted around swiftly before bowing towards Harry and reducing her voice to a mere whisper. "Recent information has led us to believe that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is planning to try and take you away from Hogwarts. For your own safety, you will not be allowed to leave the grounds until further notice."

"Professor, that is wildly unfair!" Harry shouted.

"Be that as it may, Potter, I will not allow for any argument on the matter," McGonagall replied. "I know this is hard but I also know you don't want to endanger your fellow students just to stock up on sweets."

"No, I don't," Harry admitted glumly. He turned to his two friends who were looking at him with apprehension. "Go on without me."

"No way, Harry," Hermione replied. "Either we all go or none of us do."

"Don't be silly," Harry said, smiling brightly. "Just make sure you bring me back something good, alright?"

"If you're sure…" Ron said, still not moving.

"Of course I am. Go on," Harry said, waving his hand to move them along.

"Okay, well… see you in a few hours," Hermione said. She turned around and dragged Ron with her. Harry watched them go as they started talking excitedly, Ron moving his arms in elaboration as Hermione giggled.

"Professor Snape is expecting you for another lesson, Mr Potter," McGonagall said, offering him a small smile.

"Yes, Professor," Harry said dejectedly. He went back inside and trudged away.

* * *

The dungeons were starting to feel as familiar as the Gryffindor tower was. Harry could almost benefit from a bed in the Slytherin dormitories since that would cut his travel times much shorter. The Slytherins would probably not appreciate that, though.

Harry knocked on the door. He did not really feel up to another Occlumency lesson but he didn't want to experience visions like the one he had anymore. He longed for the nightmares to go as well. But above all, he wanted to make sure that Snape was alright.

So when he heard the muffled 'Enter' from behind the door, he pushed it open without hesitation.

Snape looked like himself. There was no blood, no open wounds. He most certainly wasn't dead and Harry couldn't even pick up any tremors that would be the side effect of the Cruciatus curse. He had expected as much, though. The potions master had many tricks up his sleeve and no doubt potions in his robes.

"It is time you learned to bring up a shield," Snape said. "Around the memories you want to protect the most. The shield you have in place now is inadequate."

"I haven't shielded anything yet," Harry replied.

"I suppose you didn't do so intentionally," Snape agreed. "But in order to protect yourself and others from unwanted onlookers, you _will_ need to do so."

"How?" Harry asked curtly.

"Where do you feel the safest?" Snape asked, raising his hand to stop Harry from answering. "Picture that place. Picture your memories in that space, state or whatever it is you define as safe."

"Er-" Harry said, not quite understanding.

"Try it and see what happens," Snape said. "We are running out of time so we can't delve too deeply into the theory anymore."

"Okay," Harry agreed. He was more of a practical learner anyway.

"Legilimens."

Harry was aware of Snape sifting through his memories. He hadn't always been. At first, he just saw flashes of his own memories as if he saw his life flash before his eyes, but now he was aware of the dark presence. He could picture a long, black tunnel with blue orbs hovering alongside its walls. Memories, ready to be viewed. He could feel Snape prodding some and moving on when he wasn't satisfied. He was looking for something. Harry felt frustrated at this discovery and attempted to push Snape from his mind. The dark presence did not linger long enough to get a hold on, though, and it slipped through Harry's inexperienced grasp.

* * *

Snape had been looking for a while now until he saw what he was looking for. The 'shield' looked decidedly different from anything else in the landscape of Harry's mind and was, therefore, easy to find. Rooky mistake. Sadly, the boy had locked the memory into a cupboard.

Snape tried the door handle but it wouldn't budge. A stronger shield than last time. That was certain. He could feel Harry's discomfort at his prodding and felt a surge of wind but it did nothing to stop him.

Snape focused on the memory in the cupboard. He fumbled with the door and willed it to open. It did so easily and Snape allowed himself to be pulled into the memory once more, eager to see where it would lead.

_When the young Harry had stopped running and was standing in front of the apartment complex again, Snape felt that familiar urgency to expel him. This time he was prepared and he stood his ground. He felt a wave of frustration and anger but ignored it. Instead, he focused on the younger Harry who sought out one of the older buildings. It looked decrepit and uncared for. _

_Some child had drawn some hard to make out animals in colourful crayon on the walls and the pavement in front of it. Much of it had already faded out._

_The door wasn't locked so Harry went inside. He glanced over the mailboxes, some so full of adds and letters that the paper seemed to be regurgitated by the boxes. Harry ignored them and looked at a plan that hung above them. The layout of the building was simple. There seemed to be fifteen stories in total._

_Snape noticed a feeling of trepidation from the boy as he walked towards the stairwell and went upwards. Every now and then the boy would glance into an aligning corridor but didn't seem to find what he was looking for and kept going up. He got tired quickly, all his stamina prematurely depleted from the running but his determination was fierce._

_A wave of desperation overcame Snape so strongly that he could not hold on any longer. Harry – the present time Harry – did not want Snape in that memory for a moment longer and managed to expel him from his mind with a push so furious that Snape toppled over in the real world as well._

* * *

Harry roared in frustration as he broke the connection. He was only mildly disturbed when he saw Snape crumble to the ground. In fact, he was glad that it hadn't been him for a change.

Snape didn't stay on the floor for long. He got up within seconds, with as much grace as he could muster and locked eyes with Harry who was positively trembling with rage.

"You looked for that memory on purpose!" Harry accused. "You _knew_ I didn't want you there and yet you looked for it!"

"Did I not explain the reason for this exercise properly?" Snape asked him as he dusted himself off somewhat, slightly peeved.

"We're still _practising_! You knew I wouldn't be able to resist you yet!" Harry shouted.

"Then what would you have me do?"

"Test my shield and tell me what's wrong with it," Harry replied easily, his hands balled into fists. "Don't just go in without my permission."

"I don't need your permission, Harry," Snape replied evenly. "And I think I know what methods of teaching are best. If you didn't want that particular memory viewed – though I have seen some that were decidedly worse – you should have shielded another memory."

"Just forget it," Harry snarled as he stomped towards the door.

"We are not done here," Snape said.

"Yes, we are," Harry said quietly. He walked out without even closing the door behind him. Now, Snape was thoroughly puzzled. What happened in that memory? And why was Harry so against him seeing it? The boy needed time to cool off. He would be back shortly. Hopefully, before he had another vision.

* * *

That hope was squashed on the 18th of December.

The attack on Mr Weasley had left Harry thoroughly shaken. He had been the snake. He had lusted for Mr Weasley's blood and he had tasted it. Even now, he could not get the foul, coppery taste out of his mouth.

Mr Weasley was all right and had been brought to St. Mungo's but Harry could not bear going to the hospital with Ron. He could not bear seeing the damage he had done. People kept congratulating him for knowing about the attack. They said that, without him, they would never have found Mr Weasley on time and he might have died.

But Harry didn't feel like a hero. In this particular instance, the vision turned out to be useful, but he knew that he had failed, once again, to keep Voldemort out of his mind. He was certain that the Dark Wizard would be able to possess him before long and if he did, he could hex all of his friends into oblivion.

He didn't know what to do.

When he was invited to spend the Christmas holidays with Sirius in Grimmauld Place, he wasn't sure if he would go. He wasn't sure if he deserved it at all and he wasn't sure if he wanted to endanger those dearest to him like that.

But selfish desire overcame fear and that was that.

* * *

Harry found himself in the Order Headquarters, surrounded by the hustle and bustle that came with Christmas as well as the Weasley family. All but Percy were present. Even Mr Weasley who was in much better health than the last time Harry had seen him. He shuddered at the thought.

Many Order members were also present such as Sirius, Lupin, Moody, Tonks and unfortunately for Harry, Snape. He was still upset with the man, thoroughly convinced that he had invaded his privacy more than strictly necessary.

He huffed as he ate another tart, ignoring Snape resolutely.

"It's so good to have you here, Harry," Sirius laughed as he patted his godson on the back. "With you and Remus here, it's almost as if the old team is back together."

Snape snorted disgustedly, earning himself two equally aggressive glares from Sirius and Harry.

"Is there anything you wanted to say, Snape?" Sirius spat. "Or did you just make that noise at the sight of your reflection?"

"Just let it go, Sirius," Harry sighed. "He's not worth it."

"Right you are, Harry," Sirius happily agreed. "You know, you do remind me of James in so many ways."

"I do?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Very much so," Sirius said affectionately. "He was a kind, loyal friend, you know. And he was quite the prankster, very much like Fred and George here," he motioned towards the twins who were playing exploding snap with their sister.

Snape sharply got up from his seat, the chair scraping across the floor with an ugly sound and brusquely walked out of the room.

"Yeah, better go back to your cave, Snivellus," Sirius called after him but got no response.

"_What_ did you call him?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Ah, nothing. Just something for old times sake," Sirius shrugged but Harry caught the disapproving glare Lupin shot his friend at the taunt.

"You know, Harry, as soon as the ministry is aware of my innocence, this could very well become your home."

"It could?" Harry asked hopefully.

"I would want nothing more," Sirius said honestly, putting a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "Just imagine. We'll wreck all kinds of havoc together."

Harry chuckled. "I'm not sure Dumbledore would agree with that right now."

"Oh, but what's life without a little bit of fun, Harry!" Sirius insisted. "You've had a rough couple of months behind you. And I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you. But I promise you, Harry, that I _will_ be in the future."

"Thanks," Harry said sheepishly, wildly aware of the discolouration in his cheeks. He ran a hand through his unkempt hair and smiled.

Sirius laughed. "James used to do that when he was nervous," he divulged as he ruffled Harry's head of hair.

While happy that Sirius could see so much of his father in him, Harry wondered with a twinge of uncertain sadness if he someday would be able to see something of Harry Potter in him as well.

* * *

_I have to stop it here. I think I'll be able to reveal the truth behind Harry's memory in the next chapter. _

_Please review if you're able and thanks for reading._

**Last revised on 09/07/2020**


	28. Chapter 28

_Hi everyone! I'm excited about posting this chapter and have been working hard on it. Just a heads up! The first scene that appears in italics might be considered a tad graphic. If you don't like that, I suggest you skip it._

_Thanks for all your kind reviews! I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint._

* * *

**Chapter 28**

Christmas morning was a happier affair than Harry could have wished for after the debacle with the snake. The large Christmas tree that was set up in the sitting room was still not quite large enough to not be overshadowed by the pile of presents.

Fred and George had dragged nearly everyone out of their beds save for Snape. Not wanting to risk the wrath of the Weasley twins on Christmas morning, everyone got up and went to sit in the sitting room.

There were not enough seats for everyone but that worked itself out just fine. Most of the teenagers plopped themselves on the ground expectantly. Ron lay flat on his belly, his legs arched upwards as he stuffed himself with some treacle tart.

The adults were all chattering happily among themselves, steering clear of order business to Harry's delight. Sirius seemed caught up in telling a story from his childhood as Lupin nodded along.

Harry was jerked out of his daydreams when Fred and George opened a rather loud box filled with prank gifts and fireworks. They handed the strange goodies out to everyone around causing a loud sense of controlled mayhem for the better part of an hour.

The only person not present was Snape and even though Harry felt a pang of sadness in his absence, he was still upset with the man. And besides, Snape probably didn't even _want_ to be here.

Everyone unpacked their Weasley jumper first, putting them on immediately. Fred and George switched theirs around periodically in order to confuse everybody which seemed to work on everyone but Mr Weasley.

While Harry was munching away all sorts of treats, he opened his gifts and watched others open theirs. From Hermione, he got a book that looked sort of like a diary but when opened it said things like 'Do it today or later you'll pay'. Hagrid had sent him a particularly ugly brown wallet with teeth that Harry carefully put away in fear that it might bite him.

Lupin and Sirius gave him an excellent set of practical defence against the dark arts books that would come in handy for his DA lessons. Hermione had claimed those as soon as Harry was done leafing through them and was already studiously going over various spells.

Ron had given Harry an enormous box of every flavour beans and Tonks had been nice enough to gift Harry a model of a Firebolt that flew around the room on its own.

Presents were diminishing until there was just one left. It didn't say who it was from but it was addressed to Harry.

"Ooh, from a secret admirer, perhaps?" Sirius asked, grinning broadly.

"I don't think I have any," Harry frowned.

"Unlikely," Lupin chuckled as he shared a knowing look with Sirius.

Harry opened the top of the neatly decorated box and saw that it was filled with pictures. All of the pictures were of the same redheaded little girl with green eyes. Harry swallowed thickly as he picked one up and gingerly caressed the familiar face in the photograph. The girl smiled and waved at him before turning around and running up a hill.

"Wow," Harry whispered hoarsely. He had almost forgotten that there were other people in the room with him.

"Let me see, Harry," came Sirius' curious voice. Harry relinquished the box begrudgingly and watched as Sirius carefully picked up one of the pictures.

"Wow indeed," he seemed to agree. "Look, Remus." and he showed the picture to Lupin whose eyes widened in surprise.

"That's really a lovely gift, Harry," he said, smiling kindly. "Make sure to thank whoever sent it to you."

"Wait, do you know who sent it?" Sirius asked before Harry could, equally confused.

"Can you think of anyone who has wizarding pictures of Lily when she was that young?" Remus asked with a knowing smile. "I can think of only one person."

Harry's stomach turned over with guilt as he considered the dour man sitting alone at that moment, probably hunched over a cauldron.

"I will," he said softly.

"Wait, I still don't follow," Sirius said. "Who sent it?"

"I would bet all of my left socks that it was Severus," Lupin finally exclaimed.

Sirius huffed. "Unlikely," he said as he plopped down on the couch with his arms crossed.

"Behave yourself, Sirius," Lupin warned. "What's in the past is in the past."

"Yeah, yeah," Sirius waved Lupin's concerns away. "Harry, want to practice some of those defence spells with me?"

"Sure!" Harry agreed ecstatically. He put down one of the pictures he'd been looking at, closed the box carefully and put it out of reach of the careless crowd of people before following Sirius to practice the Confringo and Bombarda Maxima spells.

* * *

A knock on Snape's door stirred him from his concentration. He sighed and swiftly cast a stasis on his potion before moving to open the door ever so slightly.

"What do you want?" he barked. He wouldn't say that the person on the other side was the one he wanted to see least of all that day, but he was a close second.

"Happy Christmas!" Lupin greeted happily as he held out a small wrapped package. Snape eyed it suspiciously as if it could explode at any time. Keen on keeping all of his fingers, he did not accept the package.

"Oh come on, Severus, we're not children anymore," Lupin said. "I promise that it has not been tampered with."

"I don't think I'll be taking the word of a werewolf any time soon," Snape said sternly. Lupin finally dropped his hand holding the package and sighed dejectedly.

"Have it your way, Severus," he conceded. Snape was about to close the door when Lupin interjected with his annoying attempts at conversation once more. "That was a fine gift you gave Harry, Severus."

"It's hardly worthy of praise," Snape replied evenly. "I still had them lying around and I thought Potter would have a better use for them than I."

"It was a kind gesture, nonetheless," Lupin said happily.

"Will that be all?" Snape asked.

"Won't you join us for the festivities?" Lupin dared ask.

Snape snorted, "I very much doubt that I am welcome," and he slammed the door shut. He listened as he heard the man on the other side shuffle somewhat in clear uncertainty before finally walking away.

Snape sighed in annoyance at the disturbance and continued working on his potion, muttering about meddling werewolves and insignificant pictures.

* * *

The day had gone by so fast, Harry could've sworn dark magic had been used. This was, of course, preposterous. Sirius had shown him the workings of some powerful spells and Hermione and most of the Weasley children had joined in at some point.

Christmas dinner had been brilliant as well. Mrs. Weasley had outdone herself and that was saying something. The only thing missing had been Snape and by the end of the day, Harry had become astutely aware of the fact that he actually liked having the man around.

That didn't mean that Harry was quite ready to forgive Snape's intrusion. The more he thought about it, the less angry he got but he would still like an apology.

He cast a last glance down the corridor at the closed door of Snape's rooms before going into his own room to turn in for the night. Ron was already fast asleep, sprawled across his bed like a starfish. Harry tiptoed to his bed and changed into his pyjamas.

With the fun and excitement of the day weighing down pleasantly on his mind, Harry went to sleep with a smile on his face.

* * *

Snape tossed another sprig of lavender in his cauldron and watched as the liquid inside of it turned purple. He frowned and added a blob of flubberworm to thicken the liquid to a more manageable paste. He was stirring methodically when he heard a sound.

Odd. It was the middle of the night. Everyone should be asleep by now. He stopped stirring for a few seconds but when he heard nothing, he continued his quiet brewing. Not much longer now until his concoction was complete.

But then he heard it again, only louder this time. Maybe the safety of the headquarters was compromised. Snape grabbed hold of his wand, put a stasis on his cauldron and snuck out of his room. He heard a muffled cry and the sound of harsh whispering. Frowning, Snape prowled forward soundlessly and efficiently.

When he reached the door to Harry's room, he realized that the sound came from inside. He opened the door and saw Harry thrash around in his sleep, fighting with his blanket as the youngest Weasley brother sat at his bedside, whispering what were supposed to be reassurances.

Ron hadn't noticed Snape yet and he wasn't quite sure what to do. He was about to turn around and get Lupin when someone rushed past him and went inside.

"Harry, wake up," Sirius said loudly, shaking Harry by the shoulders, "You're having a nightmare!"

Snape couldn't help but roll his eyes at the obvious statement. Things seemed to be handled so he turned to get back to his potion.

"Heartless bastard," Snape heard Sirius mutter under his breath. He froze as he glanced inside, meeting Black's gaze as he held his hand on Harry's shoulder, the boy breathing heavily as his eyes darted across the room.

"How could you just stand there?" Sirius dared ask.

"Not that I need to explain myself to you, Black, but I only just got here myself," Snape replied evenly. "You seem to have it handled so if you'll forgive me –"

"Do you enjoy seeing him suffer?" Sirius challenged again. Snape's gaze darted to Harry who seemed to still be trapped in his own mind, no doubt still reliving his nightmare.

"Occlude, Potter," Snape ordered, completely ignoring Sirius.

Harry's head jerked up and Snape saw him visibly relax as their eyes met. He nodded curtly before finally stalking out of sight to go and complete his potion.

"What?" Sirius asked, slightly befuddled but turned back to his godson when Snape was out of sight. "Are you alright, Harry?"

"Yeah," Harry replied. "Just a nightmare. Don't worry, Sirius."

"Are you sure?" Sirius asked. Harry was confused to see the anxiety in Sirius' eyes but was happy that he cared so much.

"I'm sure," Harry confirmed. "Just a little bit embarrassed."

"Don't be," Sirius said, tousling his hair playfully. "It happens to the best of us."

Harry wanted to ask Sirius why he was being so insufferable to Snape but Ron was in the room as well and Harry knew it would look suspicious if he advocated for Snape.

"Do you need anything?" Sirius asked still concerned.

"No, thanks," Harry said. "I should just go back to sleep."

"Okay, Harry but if you need me, I won't be far."

Harry nodded and Sirius walked out of the room, casting a murderous glance in the direction of Snape's rooms before turning the other way.

"Wow, those two _really_ hate each other, don't they?" Ron asked in bewilderment.

"Yeah, I guess they really didn't get along in school," Harry replied.

"Are you really okay, mate?" Ron asked.

"Fine," Harry said, getting a bit tired of responding to the same question. "Goodnight, Ron."

"Yeah. Goodnight"

* * *

Harry was walking down the stairs, absolutely ready to attack his breakfast when he heard arguing before he could even descend the last few steps.

"He needs to enjoy his holidays!" Sirius yelled at someone.

"He _needs_ to learn Occlumency," Snape countered. "Before he sees something that he shouldn't."

"He is tired of being kept in the dark, Snape," Sirius spat.

Harry sat down on the final step of the stairwell, leaning into the bannister as he grabbed it with both hands. A position he had taken often when trying to spy on the Dursleys when they were leaving him out of things. He knew he shouldn't be eavesdropping but _they_ shouldn't be talking about him in the first place.

"It is not about being kept in the dark, you mongrel," Snape replied angrily. "Do you really believe that the things the Dark Lord does are suitable for children to witness?"

"He is not a child anymore!" Sirius argued. "He has seen far too much to still be called that."

"He very much still is a child," Snape countered. "And scarring him more than he already is just because he has the foolish notion that he should be included in everything is not what is best for him."

"And how would you know?" Sirius growled. "You don't know Harry. You are nothing but a foul, greasy Potions Master to him. You can't tell him what to do."

Harry's heart ached at Sirius' harsh words. He liked his godfather very much but he wished for him to stop fighting Snape like that. Even if _he_ was the one Sirius was fighting for.

"I am his teacher," Snape said evenly. "That means I _can_ and _will_ tell him what to do."

"Well, I'm his godfather and I'll give him permission to ignore you," Sirius said.

Harry could hear Snape snort audibly. "How very mature of you Black. Will you serve his detentions for him when he listens to you? Or will he just serve them silently while you think you got away with taunting me for no good reason?"

"Snivellus, you are really an evil bastard," Sirius said.

"We have established that, yes," Snape said dryly. "But that is neither here nor there. If you recall, we were discussing Potter's Occlumency lessons."

Harry nearly jumped out of his skin when someone stepped onto the step next to him. He glanced up briefly to meet Lupin's warm gaze as the man walked towards the dining room.

"And I am _done_ discussing them," Sirius said, triumph evident in his voice. "I am his godfather and during the holidays you can't tell him what to do. He'll be better off spending his free time doing something fun for a change."

"Do make sure to explain to him – when he undoubtedly wakes up from yet another nightmare – that it was most important for him to _have fun_."

"Good morning, gentlemen," Lupin greeted merrily. "What's for breakfast?"

"Good morning," Sirius chanted back. "Remus, listen to this. Snivellus –"

"Sirius, please," Lupin interrupted harshly. "You're not seventeen anymore. Please refrain from the name-calling."

Harry could hear the clanking of teacups and the whistling of a kettle.

"And I already heard your little altercation, Sirius," Lupin continued as Harry listened to water being poured into a cup. "As a matter of fact, I believe nearly all of the current occupants heard you. If you would like to know what Harry's opinion on the matter is, I'm sure he would love to enlighten you. He's sitting on the stairs."

Harry jumped to his feet, startled by Lupin's minor betrayal and started up the stairs when a voice stopped him.

"Harry, wait," Sirius said.

Harry groaned. "Good morning, Sirius," he said sheepishly.

"You heard that, did you?" Sirius asked with a wink and a smile that made Harry not feel so bad about the eavesdropping.

"I suppose I did," Harry admitted. "A little bit."

"Don't worry, son, I got your back," Sirius said happily. Harry flinched a little bit at the word 'son' and tried to conceal it. But he relished in it all the same.

"Thanks, Sirius," Harry said gratefully. "I _would_ like to hold off on those lessons for now."

"See, Snape?" Sirius called over his shoulder. "Harry agrees with me."

Snape stepped out of the kitchen, fixing Sirius with a murderous glare. "It's good to see you have the same mindset as a fifteen-year-old," He drawled. He fixed his softened gaze on Harry next which made him squirm with a sense of guilt again. "If you change your mind you know where to find me."

"Thanks," Harry managed to croak softly as Snape ascended the stairs behind him.

Sirius caught Harry's head with his arm and tousled his hair roughly. "Come on. Ignore that old bat and join me for breakfast!" he said.

Harry's eyes glanced up one more time to see Snape stalking out of sight. Sirius dragged him into the kitchen and Harry relented, sitting himself in front of a plate of scrambled eggs.

Remus was reading his paper with a thin smile. When Harry sat down he shot him a slightly apologetic look and turned back to his paper.

"How about we go flying today, Harry?" Sirius suggested.

"Flying?" Harry asked incredulously. "Where would we do that?"

"We can visit the burrow or something," Sirius said as he took a big bite out of his toast. "I'm sure the Weasleys wouldn't mind."

"I don't know if that's a good idea, Sirius," Lupin chided. "It's dangerous for Harry to be out there."

"Nonsense, Remus," Sirius countered. "He's a talented young man. We all know where he's got that from. And besides, he will have me."

"Flying does sound like fun," Harry admitted. "We haven't played any matches yet at school."

"And a pity that is," Sirius said. "We have to exercise those flying muscles!"

Harry snorted amusedly. "Can I, Remus?" He asked with a pleading voice befitting of a ten-year-old.

"_He's_ your godfather," Lupin shrugged. "Who am I to say no?"

"That's settled, then," Sirius said, clapping his hands together. "After breakfast, we fly!"

* * *

Sirius was right in assuming that the Weasleys would let them use the burrow. In fact, they all came with them. Most of the Weasley children got on their own brooms when Harry and Sirius took to the sky and it didn't take long for a Quidditch match to get started.

Harry dodged a ball that Fred had batted towards him with a sloth roll. He got in the way of the battered old quaffle when Sirius tried to throw it through the makeshift goal and smirked triumphantly as it fell off course.

Sirius dove down to retrieve if when Harry tipped the nose of his own broom down as well to go after his godfather. Soon he had closed the distance between him and Sirius and managed to snatch the quaffle out of the air before Sirius had the chance to. With one smooth motion, he straightened his broom and hurried off towards the other side.

Fred tried to halt him again but Harry looped easily and bypassed the redhead only to score effortlessly.

He landed his broom when the others did as well and grinned broadly as Sirius pulled him into a one-armed embrace.

"Fantastic flying, Harry!" Sirius praised. "You truly are James' son."

Harry sighed as his smile faltered a little. "Sirius –"

He had wanted to ask his godfather to not compare him to his father as much. To maybe try and see him for the person he was. But before he got the chance, he was suddenly crippled by a harsh ripping sensation in his scar.

He fell to his knees and clutched his head in pain. He tried to occlude but he had never experienced this much pain in his scar before. When he retracted his hand for a second, he saw that it was coated with blood.

The people in the background were yelling his name but he couldn't make out anything else they were trying to say. It was as if they were talking to him while he was underwater.

A new wave of pain slashed its way through his head and he screamed. At least he thought he did but he did not hear the sound. He clenched his eyes shut and was vaguely aware of his shoulder touching the ground as he fell. Darkness overtook him but the pain did not subside. Instead, he was thrust into a vision of Voldemort who was towering over the shaking body of a woman with black hair.

"_Tell me where it is, Olivia," Harry heard Voldemort say. But this time he was aware of it. He knew that he was watching the scene through Voldemort's eyes even before the vision ended. He didn't feel as if he was the one in charge of the body he was currently in. He just felt like a stowaway, hiding in the dark while he listened to the whispered secrets of those above deck._

"_I-I don't know," Olivia cried as she bowed her head. "Please believe me."_

_Voldemort locked eyes with a woman with wild black hair and a crazy look in her eyes. She grinned broadly when Voldemort looked at her and giggled in delight when he gestured her towards Olivia with a curt movement of his head._

"_Oh dear," she purred sweetly. "My Lord does not believe you, sweet girl. I fear that I have to try to get you to talk. Do me a favour and don't break too soon, okay?"_

_Olivia looked up and Harry saw that she was still young. Perhaps in her early twenties. With fear in her eyes, she looked at the Death Eater woman, as if hoping that she would save her. But Harry knew from Voldemort's current glee that this was not the case._

"_Try not to kill her, Bella," Voldemort said softly, a warning clear in his voice. "She still needs to tell me what I want to know."_

"_Yes, my Lord," Bella replied with a ridiculous curtsy._

_She turned back to Olivia, her wand in her hand and murmured an incantation._

"_This will sting a bit," she warned before slowly moving the wand across Olivia's face. The young woman screamed as a deep cut formed where the wand moved. Bella laughed in delight as she kept working. Blood seeped easily out of the cuts Bella expertly made, trying her best to avoid any lethal damage. When Olivia squirmed just a bit too much, two other Death Eaters stepped forward to keep her in place, slamming her against the wall and holding her arms horizontal as if they were crucifying her. _

_Olivia tried to kick Bella as she came near her again. It had been a mistake. _

"_Effringo!" Bella cried happily as she slashed sideways with her wand. A shockwave was propelled towards Olivia with so much force that Bella herself took a step back. When the wave hit Olivia's legs, she screamed in pure agony. There was a horribly wet noise followed by the sound of a volatile blood rain, splattering all over the place. Voldemort was delighted by her reaction and licked his lips when he saw the state of the crushed limbs. It was as if a steamroller had just driven over them. And there was so much blood. Broken bones protruded from crushed flesh, piercing through what was left of Olivia's legs in a grotesque fashion. Blood dripped from the white bones and all manner of flesh clung to the broken leftovers. The dripping of blood sounded in a rhythmic fashion that didn't promise silence in the near future._

"_Bellatrix," Voldemort admonished darkly though Harry knew he was pleased with the woman. "I told you not to kill her."_

_Bellatrix flashed him a guilty look before turning back to Olivia._

"_Just a second, My Lord," she said before turning her wand on the softly crying woman again._

"_Abscindo," She said and with a careful and precise movement, she raked her wand across Olivia's legs, effectively amputating them after which she cast an 'Incendio' with which she seared the horribly bleeding wounds shut._

_Olivia cried weakly throughout the procedure, occasionally screaming loudly, but mostly appearing to linger between consciousness and nothingness. _

"_She will probably live, My Lord," Bellatrix said as he turned towards Voldemort again, a crazy smile gracing her chafed lips, "And she'll probably be able to answer you once she feels better," Bellatrix squeezed Olivia's cheeks in mock affection as she spoke, relishing in the pain she just caused._

"_I hope for you that she does," Voldemort replied, anger now evident in his voice. "I hope for all of you that she does."_

_He glanced purposefully across the room, fixing each and every Death Eater present with a dark stare before dissaparating from the scene._

* * *

Harry opened his eyes more calmly than he would have suspected from himself. It was as if he had just woken up from a peaceful slumber instead of a nightmare. But then again, he hadn't even remembered falling asleep.

He noticed that he was back in his room in Grimmauld Place and his eyes shot open as he recollected what he had just seen. A wave of nausea overcame him so quickly, there was nothing he could do to stop it. He rolled himself to the edge of his bed as quickly as he could and vomited.

"Harry, it's alright," A familiar voice said. "I'm here. We're back."

Harry sniffled, slightly comforted by Sirius' presence but still thoroughly shaken by what he just saw.

"What happened?" Sirius asked as Harry wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

"I'm sorry," Harry uttered. "I'm sorry!"

"What are you sorry for?" Sirius asked. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I can never have a normal day to myself," Harry cried. "It's always something. Why is it always me?!"

Sirius vanished the vomit before sitting on the edge of Harry's bed, "It's not your fault, Harry – no, listen to me – It's not your fault." He stroked Harry's hair gently as the boy rubbed at his eyes. "It's only normal that you would want to do things with your friends, to not be cooped up all the time."

"It _is_ my fault," Harry argued. "I should have just continued the Occlumency lessons. But after what happened to Mr Weasley – well – I thought that maybe I could save more people that way."

"You have a good heart," Sirius said silently. "But don't blame yourself. It's _my_ fault, really. I just _had_ to drag you out there instead of arming you against You-Know-Who. I shouldn't have swayed you."

The sound of someone clearing their throat caused Harry to jump. He looked up to see Snape in the doorway, a potion in his hand.

"Here to say I told you so?" Sirius snapped angrily. Snape ignored Sirius and handed Harry the potion.

"It's a calming draught," He said calmly. "Drink it and come see me when you're ready."

"Who do you think you are?" Sirius yelled. "What's in that potion?"

"I believe I just told Potter what it is, Black," Snape snarled. Harry was surprised to see the deep seething hatred now fully apparent in Snape's eyes. "Or are you going to accuse me of poisoning him?"

"What does he need to see you for?" Sirius asked.

"Occlumency lessons," Snape said icily. "Or are you still going to tell me that he doesn't need them? That Potter needs to spend his holidays gallivanting around the burrow?"

"That's not what –"

"Don't be a child, Black," Snape interrupted angrily. "At least be decent enough to set the animosity between us aside so I can help your godson."

Sirius opened his mouth to speak again but Harry grabbed his arm. He had already drunk the calming draught and felt a lot better. "Please stop, Sirius," Harry pleaded. "He only wants to help me. I trust him."

"You _trust_ him?" Sirius asked, completely horrified.

Harry met Snape's glance and thought the saw a flicker of something in them but found no emotion when he tried to focus on it. "I'll be right there, Professor," he said. Snape nodded curtly and walked out.

"You know, he was a real prat back when we went to Hogwarts," Sirius told Harry.

"I really don't want to hear it," Harry said. "He used to be a git to me too but I – well – I think he doesn't mean any harm."

"He was a Death Eater, Harry," Sirius said, urgency clear in his voice as if he needed Harry to understand.

"I know," Harry smiled. "And he has saved my life more times than I can count."

Harry got out of bed and gingerly tested the strength in his legs. When he was satisfied that they wouldn't buckle, he shot a smile at his godfather. "Thank you for worrying about me. But if there's anyone I'm not worried about hurting me, It's him."

And with that, he left a thoroughly confused Sirius behind as he walked over to Snape's office and knocked on the door.

"Enter," Came the familiar voice and Harry opened the door with a strange sense of relief and familiarity.

Snape was seated behind his desk and motioned for Harry to take the chair across from him.

"How are you feeling?" Snape asked, his clever gaze seemingly peering into Harry's soul without even needing Legilimency.

"I'm okay," Harry replied automatically.

"Could you please give me a reply that's not conditioned?" Snape countered.

Harry paused for a second as he considered Snape's response. Sadness had filled his eyes when he opened his mouth to speak again. "It was horrible," he said honestly, "They were torturing some poor woman. They – They did horrible things to her. I don't even think she knows what Voldemort wants to know but he didn't care. They loved it when she screamed. They –" Harry's voice cracked in his throat.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," Snape said honestly.

"I'm sorry for getting mad at you before," Harry replied.

"You don't need to apologize to me," Snape sighed. "I understand."

"It's just that –"

"You don't want me to see," Snape finished.

Harry nodded and Snape regarded him for a moment.

"Harry," he finally said, his voice laced with a twinge of uncertainty. "I am by no means a mind healer but I do know the mind. And I know Occlumency. The truth is that if you let your emotions run their course as you do, Occlumency will remain very hard for you to achieve.

"In order to be able to close off your mind, there can be no emotions left behind that you should have dealt with in the past. This means that unresolved trauma makes it difficult if not impossible to fully Occlude.

"I won't tell you to go see a mind healer but I would advise that you tell someone. Speak to someone about your troubles. Speak to someone about that memory you have tried to hide from me. Perhaps Dumbledore or your friends? I'll try to steer clear of that particular memory for now but to make progress, I will have to come across it eventually."

"So you will see it anyway?" Harry asked softly. "If not now, you will see it later?"

"If you wish to continue these lessons, that will most likely happen."

Harry swallowed thickly as he looked up into Snape's eyes. Snape cringed inwardly at the sight of all that hurt in Harry's eyes.

"It's hard to talk about sir," Harry said. "I think you will hate me when you know. Anyone would."

"I doubt it very much, Harry," Snape said.

"Could you –" Harry breathed deeply. "It would be easier for me if you would just see for yourself."

"Are you sure?" Snape asked heavily.

"If not now, you will find out later, right?" Harry mimicked the earlier concern. "Well, I want as few people as possible to know. So I guess… as long as you won't tell anyone. Can you promise me that?"

"I promise," Snape replied.

"And not like with the Dursleys, okay?" Harry said. "I trust you to keep this secret. I don't know what I would do if I ever found out you told anyone."

"I swear to you that as long as you are not in immediate danger because of this secret, I won't tell another soul."

Harry nodded. "I believe you." He breathed deeply one more time and looked into Snape's eyes with fierce determination.

Snape took this as his cue and ventured into the depths of Harry's mind.

* * *

_The last few steps were the hardest for young Harry to climb. He was moving agonizingly slow but Snape was not sure if it was because of the exhaustion Harry felt or because of his slight hesitation._

_On the fifteenth floor, Harry glanced into the corridor. When he saw no one, relief overcame him. He turned towards the grey door that stood menacingly at the end of the stairwell and pushed it open. _

_He had reached the roof of the building. Potted plants were spread out across the flat rooftop, all of them horribly neglected. Harry glanced sadly at one of the brownish remains of what once was a tomato plant and looked across the park that now stood far below him._

_When Harry looked down, he saw children playing with their parents, laughing and squealing in delight. Snowmen were being made and snowball fights were being held. Somewhere near the back of the park, you could buy cups of hot chocolate and Harry stared longingly at a family sitting at a picnic table with such cups warming their hands._

_Immense sadness overcame him._ Snape_ could feel the tightening in Harry's chest as if it was his own. A sense of despair he had not sensed in a long time beat vividly in Harry's heart._

_With a sigh, the young boy stepped on the ledge and looked down again. Snape felt the sense of resignation and was horrified at the prospect of viewing what would happen next. _

_Young Harry glanced over his shoulder one more time as if to see if anyone had followed him. The pain and disappointment in his eyes were obvious. He fixed his eyes on the ground and looked forward again._

_With one last quivering sigh, Harry fixed his gaze into one of determination. And then he jumped._

* * *

**Last revised on 09/07/2020**


	29. Chapter 29

_I was thoroughly worried that Harry's memory was going to be very obvious but judging by your reviews that was not the case. I'm glad that I was able to surprise most of you at least and I'm happy you all liked it._

_Please enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 29**

Harry and Snape sat there in stunned silence for what seemed to be ages. Harry was highly aware of the beating of his heart in his throat and swallowed harshly to try and get himself to calm down. More than anything he was fearful of Snape's reaction.

The man would probably revert back to hating him now. Who could ever care for someone as broken as him? Taking the coward's way out as he had done would no doubt turn Snape away from him.

Harry's gaze tentatively fluttered upwards for half a second, trying to get a reading on the dark man before him. Before actually registering his reaction, his gaze fell again. He was too ashamed to try and establish any kind of contact at that moment.

Suddenly, Snape got up so brusquely that the chair he was sitting on clattered to the ground. Harry reflexively got up as well, the fear of rejection overcoming him. He backed away as Snape took a few long strides towards him and before Harry could react, he was enveloped in Snape's long-sleeved arms.

Harry froze. Snape embraced him so tightly that Harry found it difficult to breathe. But he didn't want to say anything. Neither of them broke the silence for a long time nor did Snape let go of Harry. Before long, Harry relaxed and leaned into the hug, the prickling feeling of unshed tears manifesting in his eyes.

When Snape softly ran his slender fingers through Harry's unkempt hair, it became too much for the boy. He finally released his unshed tears and buried his face against Snape's chest. His legs became unsteady and Snape lowered them both to the ground, never letting go of Harry as the boy let his emotions flow freely.

"It's alright," Snape whispered, still stroking Harry's hair soothingly. "You will be alright."

Harry's heart-breaking cries filled the room as he clung desperately onto Snape's robes. Relief, as well as anguish, overcame him. Reliving the memory so vividly reminded him of his darkest days. But knowing that Snape hadn't turned him away because of it made him so happy.

It took a long time before Harry finally stopped crying. Reluctantly, he pulled away from the hug because his legs were starting to hurt from their awkward position. His cheeks flushed when he realized the large, wet spot on Snape's robes and shyly looked into the man's eyes. He found nothing but comfort and compassion in them which was so unlike Snape that Harry had to do a double-take.

"Do you feel better?" Snape asked.

Harry nodded. Surprisingly enough, he did.

"Would you like some tea?"

Harry chuckled at the benign question. It almost seemed too standard, too normal for this situation. But its normalcy relaxed Harry somewhat and he found himself thankful towards Snape.

"Yes, please," he responded softly.

Snape waved his wand and a teapot appeared. Harry eyed it curiously when he saw that it was the same one that appeared when they were at Hogwarts and wondered if the spell made one appear out of nowhere rather than summon one from a predestined place.

Snape poured them both a cup and sipped his own tea.

"When I first got my letter from Hogwarts I was excited to go there with your mother," Snape suddenly said, gazing into the distance.

Harry blinked, a bit taken aback by the unexpected conversation. But he stayed silent. He imagined that this was Severus' way of thanking Harry for confiding in him. Just like he had done when asking about the Dursleys.

"Sadly enough for me, she was sorted into Gryffindor, as you well know, while I was sorted into Slytherin. It made it more difficult for us to become friends but she persisted. Even though some of her housemates were giving her trouble for it."

"That's not fair," Harry said softly. He was enjoying the warmth of the cup in his hands. The tea itself did wonders to invigorate him and Harry wondered if Snape had snuck a calming draught into his.

"Perhaps," Snape mused. "But you know how it is between those two houses. Had it been Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, I'm sure things would have been different. Nevertheless, Lily had a good heart and she stuck with me, even when I was at my lowest point."

Harry smiled a little. "It sounds like she was a really good person."

"The best person I ever met," Snape said honestly.

"What happened between you two?" Harry asked.

Snape thought about the question for a while before sighing. "That's a story for another time, Harry," he said decidedly.

"Okay," Harry agreed, somewhat disappointed but happy to have heard more about his mother.

"If I may ask this of you, Harry –" Snape said, his voice neutral, "how did you survive a fall that high?"

Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "It was strange. As soon as I hit the ground, I seemed to bounce a couple of times before landing. I didn't have a scratch on me."

"Accidental magic, I'd wager," Snape said. "Thank Merlin for that."

When Harry didn't readily agree with the statement, Snape frowned. "Do you still feel the way you felt that day?"

"Not really," Harry said. "Since I started Hogwarts, everything is a lot better. I have friends now and I only have to see the Dursleys for two months every year." His gaze was fixed on his teacup. He really didn't want to look Snape in the eye when he talked about this.

"Not really," Snape repeated. "So in a way you do?"

"I've only tried it once," Harry confessed. "And I don't feel like trying again. Especially with Voldemort lurking about, you know? But sometimes –"

"Sometimes?" Snape urged.

Harry bit his lower lip. The words that came out next were soft but they were the truth. "Sometimes I find myself wishing he would succeed in trying to kill me."

Snape eyed him wordlessly while Harry kept his gaze fixed on his cup to the best of his abilities. He felt his cheeks flush again with embarrassment.

"Harry, look at me," Snape urged. Harry just blinked.

"Look at me," Snape repeated with a bit more fire behind his words.

Reluctantly, Harry did as he was told and met Snape's gaze.

"If you ever feel like that again – wherever you are – you can talk to me. Owl me if you need to." Snape said. He frowned when he noticed the disbelieving look on Harry's face. "I know I can be somewhat difficult to approach but I will do my best to keep any growls and snarls to a minimum when you come to me feeling like that."

Harry chuckled awkwardly. "That's nice of you to say."

"I mean it," Snape pressed. "Though it would probably be better for you if you told Black about your troubles. You would no doubt feel more comfortable talking to him about these things."

"I don't think he would understand," Harry sighed, thinking that it would shatter Sirius' image of him. James would probably never have done such a thing. "and even if he would, I don't feel comfortable telling anyone, really."

"That is entirely up to you, Harry," Snape replied.

A knock on the door caused both of them to look up.

"Enter," Snape said and the door creaked open inwardly.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you," Came Lupin's voice. "But dinner is ready."

Lupin frowned when he saw the mildly distressed look on Harry's face which his red puffy eyes did nothing to ease. "Harry, is everything alright?"

"Just a very difficult Occlumency lesson," Harry responded with a weak smile. Lupin glanced towards Snape but was met with a mask of indifference.

"He'll be right down," Snape replied. "We are done for the day anyway."

"We'll be waiting," Lupin said before pulling the door closed behind him.

"Are you coming down, too?" Harry asked. When Snape raised an eyebrow he quickly added. "Because I've noticed you rarely join us for dinner or any meal for that matter. Don't you need to eat?"

"I'm not particularly welcome, Harry," Snape explained. "I'm here to oversee your Occlumency lessons since you just _had_ to come here for your holidays, but other than that I am not wanted."

"Oh," Harry replied with a frown.

A small moment of silence stretched between the two of them before Harry spoke again. "If you don't mind, I would like it if you came too."

Snape snorted incredulously. "There's no need for that, Harry. I appreciate the effort but I prefer it up here anyway."

"Come on," Harry whined. "No one is ever going to like you if you just stay away like this."

"You think so?" Snape replied. "Good."

Harry rolled his eyes and stood from his chair. "Okay, have it your way," he said. "Oh, and Severus,"

Snape looked up at the use of his first name which Harry – despite being granted the permission to use it amongst the two of them – only used sporadically.

"Thank you for today. And for the pictures."

Snape waved him off with his right hand. "You are very welcome, Harry. Now go eat something."

Harry chuckled at Snape's discomfort and walked out. As the door closed, Snape sighed deeply, rubbing his temples. What was he going to do with that boy? Thank Merlin for Sirius black because he was not at all qualified to talk about things like this.

And with his godfather present, Harry still had someone he could depend on. Even though that person was an irresponsible, showboating mutt. He hoped the day that the ministry could finally clear Black would come soon. Harry desperately needed a stable home with a warm, loving family, no matter how small. Only Black could provide him with that now.

* * *

Harry happily sat at the dinner table where Sirius and Lupin were already waiting. The Weasleys had stayed at the burrow since Mr Weasley still needed a lot of rest. Hermione had offered to stay with them in order to help Mrs Weasley out with the cooking and cleaning.

"Eat something. You'll feel better," Lupin said, handing Harry the bowl of potatoes.

"Why, what happened?" Sirius frowned. "Snape didn't do something bad, did he?"

"No, Sirius," Harry replied, helping himself to the food on the table. "Occlumency is just really hard, that's all."

"I bet it wouldn't be so hard if you had a better teacher," Sirius grumbled.

"Professor Snape is good at his job, Sirius," Lupin interjected. "And he's a good man. He's just a bit –"

"Dark? Depressing? Dependent on the misery of others?" Sirius offered.

"Stop it, Sirius," Harry admonished. "It's not his fault. I'm just bad at it."

"I'm sure you'll get the hang of it sooner or later," Lupin said, earning himself a small smile from Harry.

"I hope so," Harry replied. "It's really hard to see those kinds of visions." He shuddered at the memory of his last one.

"I'm here for you, Harry," Sirius said kindly, covering Harry's hand with his own.

"I know," Harry replied. "Thank you."

Harry wolfed down his food as he listened to Lupin and Sirius talk about Animagi and Werewolves. When he was done, he grabbed a clean plate and stacked it with a generous portion of everything available.

"Fixing yourself a midnight snack or something?" Sirius asked in bewilderment.

"I just thought Snape might be hungry," Harry said.

Remus shot him an appreciative smile but Sirius snorted. "Can't he survive on potion ingredients or something? The blood of a virgin, perhaps?"

"Sirius, that's enough!" Harry said, wiping the smirk off of Sirius' face. "Why are you picking on Snape like that? He's done nothing to you."

Sirius shrugged. "That's just our dynamic, really. Right, Remus?"

"I disagree," Lupin replied. "I've told you many times to stop this childish feud. You're the only one who seems to still be clinging to it, after all."

"Why?" Harry asked. "Why do you have a _feud_ in the first place?"

"He's a Slytherin," Sirius said matter-of-factly. "And we are Gryffindors."

"Wait. Who do you mean with 'we'?" Harry asked.

"Me, Remus, James and – well – Peter of course," Sirius replied, a bit bitter about discussing Pettigrew.

"So it was four against one?" Harry asked incredulously.

"It wasn't exactly our fault that he couldn't make any friends," Sirius shrugged. "That's what you get for trying to hang around Gryffindors when you're clearly not welcome."

"I can't believe you," Harry said softly. "_You_ are the ones who picked on Snape for trying to be friends with my mother?"

"I'm sorry, Harry," Lupin replied honestly, a glint of regret in his eyes. "We were so foolish and I do regret my actions."

"Well, he had it coming," Sirius said, adding fuel to the fire he hadn't even realized he started. "He knew more dark spells in his first year than most seven years did. He was clearly evil. A Slytherin true and true."

Harry bit his lip before he could say something he would regret, grabbed the plate and some cutlery and stormed out of the kitchen.

"Harry, wait-"

Harry turned around to face Lupin who had followed him to the stairs. Sirius had wisely stayed behind. "It's no wonder he hated me all this time," Harry said sadly. "My father bullied him."

Lupin sighed. "Yes, we all did," he admitted. "And while I would argue that he dished out as good as he got, it was unfair of us to gang up on him. I'm sorry."

"Did you ever tell _him_ that?" Harry asked.

"I - well – no actually," Lupin admitted. "But I will, Harry, I promise,"

"Thanks," Harry said gratefully, "I'm sure he would appreciate it."

"Please try to forgive Sirius as well, Harry," Lupin then whispered. "You have to understand that he never had the chance to become much of an adult with him being in Azkaban and all. I think he's trying to get back some of the time he lost."

Harry's expression softened a bit when he heard that. "But that's still not fair to Snape."

"No, it's not," Lupin agreed. "I'll try and talk to him about it again."

Harry nodded thankfully and headed up the stairs. He came to a halt in front of Snape's office door and cast a quick warming spell on the plate he was holding before knocking three times.

"Enter," Came a very annoyed sounding Snape. Harry opened the door with his free hand and walked inside.

"I thought you might be hungry," he explained as he set down the plate in front of Snape.

Snape frowned. "I would have just gone down to the kitchen later," he said. "You needn't worry yourself with me."

"I just thought it was a nice thing to do," Harry shrugged. "Well, enjoy!" And without waiting for a reply, Harry walked back out.

Snape chuckled and looked at the mountains of food piled onto his plate. That boy would never cease to surprise him. Hungry enough to eat a horse, he thankfully dug in.

* * *

The remainder of the Christmas holiday went by very fast. Harry's Occlumency lessons were finally starting to get easier. He occasionally managed to push Snape from his mind but even if he didn't, he never got upset about Snape viewing his memories anymore. He had already seen the worst of it and treated him with nothing but understanding so Harry trusted him completely with the rest as well.

Every now and then, Harry occluded so successfully that Snape couldn't even get in. Sadly enough, Harry was startled easily, so he couldn't hold on to the proper mindset for an extended period of time just yet. But it was an improvement nonetheless.

Sirius seemed to try his best to stay out of Snape's way and Harry hadn't heard him use that derogatory nickname 'Snivellus' anymore. Satisfied with Sirius' efforts, Harry managed to make the most of the time they had left together. They spent it doing all kinds of fun things that mostly Sirius had been looking forward to. For a short while, Sirius had even tried getting Harry to start on becoming an Animagus but Harry showed no promise or desire whatsoever so they quickly stopped doing that.

Because of Snape's constant vigilance, Harry's homework was complete and ready to be turned in when it was finally time to go back to Hogwarts.

"Remember to write to me, Harry," Sirius said for the fourth time that day.

"I will," Harry chuckled. "You just try to not get on Remus' nerves too much, okay?"

"Never!" Sirius replied in mock offense.

"Time to go," Snape growled. "He grabbed some floo powder, yelled something into the fire and stepped through.

"Good riddance," Sirius mumbled.

"Bye!" Harry said before hurrying after his Potions Master.

When he got to the other side, he tripped over his own trunk with the soot covering his glasses and almost fell flat on his voice as was customary for him when he used the floo. Thankfully, a strong arm caught him and pulled him upright before any damage was done.

"Will you ever learn how to floo without nearly injuring yourself?" Snape drawled, but a hint of amusement was clear in his voice.

"I doubt it," Harry chuckled. "Thanks for the assist."

"I suggest you get back to your common room," Snape said. "I suspect that your friends are already there."

"Do you need any help unpacking?" Harry asked helpfully.

"Absolutely not," Snape replied. "I can finally enjoy some peace and quiet again. You can run along now. We'll see each other soon enough. Just remember, Harry, I still have to keep up pretences here."

"I know, I know," Harry sighed. "I'll play along."

Harry exited Snape's office and was walking back to the Gryffindor tower when he was stopped by a very enthusiastic Professor Knots when he came near the edge of the dungeon.

"Harry!" He shouted happily. "Back from the holidays, I see."

"Yes, Professor," Harry replied politely. "How was your Christmas?"

"Fantastic, Harry, thanks for asking," Knots replied as he patted Harry on the back. "But it's good to be back and see my precious students again."

He glanced in the direction Harry had come from and frowned. "Did you visit with Professor Snape again?" he asked. "Even though you only just got back?"

"Er-" Harry started, thinking of an excuse. "I didn't understand my holiday assignment so I asked Professor Snape for some clarification."

"He assigned you homework for the holidays?" Knots asked in surprise. "That's not very Christmassy of him."

"He doesn't really celebrate any holidays, I think," Harry shrugged. He wanted to point out that many other teachers had assigned homework as well but he supposed that he needed to keep pretending that he hated Snape and that he felt as if Snape had it out for him.

"He does strike me as a bit of a loner," Knots agreed as he walked with Harry to the tower.

Harry shrugged. "That's what you get when you snarl at anyone that comes near you."

Knots laughed loudly, holding his belly as he did. "Quite right my boy!" he said, wiping a tear from his eye. His gaze turned a bit sad when he next spoke. "I'm sorry to say that I have failed you."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"I couldn't convince the headmaster to transfer your lessons from Professor Snape to me," Knots explained. "Apparently they are quite unique and he doesn't seem to believe that I have the necessary skill."

"That's too bad," Harry lied. "Maybe next time, Professor."

"Maybe," Knots said, smiling when they arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady. "See you around, Harry."

Harry scurried inside, leaving Knots behind.

* * *

The next week it was finally time for Gryffindor's first Quidditch match. It was about time. It was expected to be an easy match against Hufflepuff since they lost their seeker and captain Cedric Diggory the previous year. This made Harry feel somewhat guilty but he had a duty to his house.

It was a gloriously bright day and Harry took to the skies with his team. He glanced towards the bannisters and saw that they were filled to the brim. All of the teachers seemed to be present as well and though most of them at least appeared to be neutral, Knots did not attempt to appear as such.

He wore a garish wizard's hat that flashed in the Gryffindor colours. Occasionally, a snitch would appear on the hat in golden stitches. A sewed on Harry Potter would catch it every time. Harry groaned when he saw it and wished that he could set the hat on fire without anyone noticing. Snape seemed extremely put off by Knots' appearance and looked as if he would set the hat on fire himself. Preferably while Knots was still wearing it.

This made Harry chuckle at least.

As soon as everyone was present, Madame Hooch called everyone to order, went over the rules of fair play as usual and released the snitch.

The match was neck and neck. Every time Gryffindor scored, it seemed that Hufflepuff scored right after. The points kept raking up while the Snitch was nowhere to be found.

"Alicia scores again! That makes the total 240 against 220 for Gryffindor," Jordan yelled excitedly, "But Cadwallader takes possession of the Quaffle and is heading towards the Gryffindor goalposts. Come on Fred or George, get a bludger over there – Sorry, Professor"

Harry looked op minutely from searching for the snitch to see Lee Jordan get a brief talking to from McGonagall and chuckled.

The Hufflepuff seeker Summerby was searching for the snitch as he floated a bit lower than Harry.

"Ooh, Cadwallader scores! Now it's 240 against 230. Katie manages to grab the quaffle and is now racing across the field, evading Herbert Fleet with all the elegance of a lion. Everyone is starting to look pretty tired. _Where_ is that snitch?"

Harry was wondering the same thing. He heard the crowd react when Katie managed to score once again. It was high time that he found the snitch or they might end up losing this match even though Hufflepuff didn't have Cedric anymore.

Out of the corner of his eye, he suddenly saw Summerby break into a full-blown nosedive and went after him immediately. For a while, he though the other seeker was trying to fake him out but then he saw the snitch as well. It was fluttering mere inches above the grass.

No problem. Harry gave chase and almost managed to catch up to Summerby. The snitch was mere feet away but then Summerby made the fatal mistake to slow down somewhat. Harry smirked at that error, passed the other seeker by and pulled up hard at the very last second as the crowd collectively shouted and screamed in fear. He levelled himself out by means of a corkscrew manoeuvre and emerged grinning broadly with the snitch in his hand.

"And Harry Potter catches the snitch after what seemed to be attempted suicide!" Lee Jordan screamed in excitement. "That must have been the catch of the century! Please don't do that again, Harry!"

Harry waved at Jordan in acknowledgement and landed his broom. His teammates landed around him, congratulating him for his amazing catch while the Hufflepuff team walked away, comforting their own seeker.

When Harry glanced at the teachers, two of them stood out way more to him than the others. Knots was hopping up and down, completely elated, pointing at his hat and showing it off to anyone who dared glance in his direction.

Snape, on the other hand, was fixing him with a murderous glare, his face white and his expression seething with anger.

* * *

_Ah, finally done with this chapter. Many things are still to come and I have no idea how many more chapters there will be. Probably a lot._

_Please keep me motivated with your wonderful reviews!_

**Last revised on 09/07/2020**


	30. Chapter 30

_Sorry that I didn't update yesterday. Life kind of happened. But here it is!_

_Thank you all so very much for your reviews. I feel so blessed._

* * *

**Chapter 30**

"Harry, what do you think you were doing?" Hermione asked incredulously. Harry tore his gaze away from the teachers' stand to look at his bushy-haired friend. She seemed to be on the verge of tears for some reason.

"Er- Catching the snitch," Harry answered honestly.

"Catching the –" Hermione shook her head in dismay. "Harry, that was _dangerous_!"

"No, that was brilliant," Ron intervened, grinning from ear to ear. "Seriously Harry, you just have to go pro someday. The things you _do_ to catch the snitch. You're absolutely mental!"

"Thanks," Harry grinned, riding the high of his victory. He doubted anything could bring him down for the rest of the day. Oh, how wrong he was.

"My office, NOW," Snape barked at him. Harry hadn't even seen him approach. Yup, he was positively angry.

"But sir, I-" Harry tried.

"Did I stutter?" Snape asked in a dangerously low voice.

"No sir," Harry replied with a frown.

"Then I suggest you do as I say before I grind you into potion ingredients," And with that enlightening threat, Snape stalked away from the Quidditch pitch, his robes billowing almost poetically behind him.

"_Now_ what did I do?" Harry asked himself. But it was clearly aloud because Ron replied. "He's probably upset that you won another Quidditch match. He knows Slytherin could never best us with you on the team."

Somehow, Harry doubted that. He grudgingly moved towards the castle, grumbling under his breath. Knots joined Ron and Hermione just in time to see Harry leave.

"Where is he going?" Knots asked. "He should be celebrating with his team and his fans." He sounded very disappointed as he sadly waved a little Gryffindor flag. The Harry on his hat caught the snitch again.

"Professor Snape was upset with him about something," Hermione replied dutifully.

"I should have guessed," Knots said, narrowing his eyes at Harry's retreating form. "It's really unprofessional for a professor to be so obviously biased towards a student."

Ron looked at him with widened eyes and had already opened his mouth to remark on Knots' hypocrisy when Hermione elbowed him sharply between the ribs.

"He's harsh against all of his students," Hermione said, smiling sweetly. "It's just his way of teaching, I guess."

"Yes well," Knots huffed. "I don't see him taking such an interest in any other student. You tell Harry that if he ever feels threatened or otherwise negatively impacted by Professor Snape he can come right to me."

"We will," Hermione said sweetly. "Thank you, Professor."

Knots nodded curtly and disappeared into the celebrating crowd.

"Hermione, honestly!" Ron exclaimed, "Why are you brown-nosing like that?"

Hermione shrugged. "It can't hurt to stay on his good side."

* * *

Snape was walking briskly and soon he had disappeared out of Harry's sight. Harry was not about to start sprinting to catch up. He had a bit more dignity to him than that. He realized that he was still holding the snitch and pocketed it quickly, reminding himself to bring it back later.

Before long, he crossed the dungeons once again, his feet working as if on autopilot. In the distance he heard a door slam so hard, Harry expected to find it in pieces once he got there.

It wasn't. Harry frowned, still unsure of what he did wrong. He steeled himself, ready to defend himself against whatever wrongdoing Snape would accuse him of now and knocked.

Instead of Snape's usual directive to come in, the door opened with a sharp swing and it was all Harry could do not to flinch at the sudden unexpected movement.

With a challenging look, he defied Snape's acidic gaze. They stood there frozen for a few seconds before Snape sharply pointed towards the familiar chair Harry had sat in so often now. Harry knew better than to disobey the Potion Master at this point and sat down.

Slamming the door shut once again, Snape stalked to his desk. He did not sit down. Instead, he stood there with his arms crossed. His lips were pursed into a thin line and his eyes pierced straight through any sense of accomplishment Harry still had after his match.

When Snape did not speak for a long time, Harry tried to start. "Sir, I-"

"Just _what_ do you think you were _doing_?" Snape interrupted him. Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. Had Snape really waited for him to start talking, just to interrupt him? Real mature.

Bewildered, Harry frowned. "Playing my part," he said. "What is your problem anyway? Are you upset that we won?"

"Yes, Potter, that is surely it," Snape spat. "My one desire for this year was for Hufflepuff to win the Quidditch Cup and you stomped all over that wish."

Harry snorted amusedly at the sarcasm in Snape's voice but quickly realized this was a mistake.

"Oh, so you find this _funny_, do you?" Snape asked dangerously. "Fifty points from Gryffindor."

Harry jumped up at that. "Are you seriously punishing me for catching the snitch?" He yelled. "How can you do that? I'm sure McGonagall would _love_ to hear all about this."

"If _Professor_ McGonagall had any sense at all, she would punish you herself," Snape countered. He was quickly losing his patience.

"For what?!" Harry yelled in exasperation.

"FOR NEARLY GETTING YOURSELF KILLED."

Stunned at Snape's outburst, Harry froze in place. The two regarded each other for a while before Harry spoke again. "I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?" Snape countered, the bite in his voice indicating that he didn't think so.

"Nothing happened," Harry tried again.

"This time," Snape said coldly. "Nothing happened this time. And I will have you know that all but one of the teachers had drawn their wands, ready to stop you if necessary. Honestly, it already _was_ necessary for if anything had happened we would have been too late. We should have stopped you."

"That would have lost us the match!" Harry argued.

"Which is probably why Professor McGonagall asked us to refrain from intervening," Snape said. "And had something happened, I would never have forgiven myself."

"You're overreacting," Harry snarled.

"And you're taking this too lightly," Snape growled.

Harry threw his hands in the air as a sign of defeat. "I don't know what you want from me."

"I want you to start valuing your life more than this," Snape said.

"Professor," Harry said calmly. "I am good at Quidditch. Probably better than I am at anything else. I know what I'm doing. What might seem dangerous to you is just everyday stuff for me. Please understand that."

"Are you informing me that you do this kind of thing during practice as well?" Snape had narrowed his eyes and Harry gulped.

"Well no," he admitted. "Things _like_ it but not quite as – "

"Yes?" Snape urged as Harry paused.

"Not as dangerous, I guess," Harry admitted.

"Indeed."

"I can't promise you that I won't do it again. I just don't see the issue." Harry said.

"Clearly," Snape replied, his frustration growing again. "Perhaps I should just forbid you from playing Quidditch."

"You can't!" Harry snapped. "You are _not_ my father."

"No," Snape agreed icily, "I am not."

"Are we done here?" Harry asked angrily, clutching his broomstick tightly.

Snape considered the boy in front of him. He knew that if he let the conversation drag on like this, ugly things would be said. He already felt ready to compare Harry's stunt with the suicide he had attempted but knew that this would be nothing but hurtful. So he held himself back and waved towards the door. "Fine, go."

Harry didn't waver. He turned around and left Snape alone with his concerns and fears. Was he overreacting? He didn't think so. And he couldn't believe that, once again, the boy's foolish actions were applauded rather than reprimanded. What kind of message did that send?

Snape decided to go talk to McGonagall about it. Surely, she could see reason.

* * *

Snape knocked on McGonagall's office door, half expecting her not to be there. Surely, she was celebrating her victory after all. But a happy sounding "Come on in." relieved him of that notion.

He all but barged in to find McGonagall sitting there, happily sipping tea out of a garishly decorated Gryffindor mug. She looked positively stunned to find the dark Potions Master standing in her office.

"Severus," she greeted. "What can I help you with?"

"Basking in your victory, I see," Snape noted as he tilted his head towards the mug.

"Surely, you will grant me this small pleasure, Severus," McGonagall smiled, not at all perturbed by Snape's dour appearance. "Oh don't look at me like that. Slytherin hasn't lost yet. We just happen to have a spectacular –"

Snape interrupted her by slamming his hand down on her desk. McGonagall didn't even flinch. She just pursed her lips disapprovingly.

"How can you sit there and be happy about the match you just saw?" Snape asked darkly. "Has this entire school lost its mind or is it just me?"

"Quite frankly, Severus, I have no idea what you're talking about," McGonagall said, taking another sip.

"Ha- Potter could have died performing that little stunt," Snape growled. "And yet, you don't seem to care."

McGonagall rolled her eyes at Snape which annoyed him profoundly, "Oh come on. I don't know why you're so worried all of a sudden. He's been doing these kinds of 'stunts', as you say, since his first year."

"And he's only grown more overconfident about his abilities on a broom," Snape countered. "one of these days he will end up dead."

"I feel like you're being overly dramatic," McGonagall frowned. "Potter is a very skilled flyer and I have absolute faith in his abilities. He will be fine."

"You Gryffindors really need to get your priorities checked, Minerva," Snape snarled. "I wanted to advise you to take the boy's broom away for a while until he learns to fly responsibly but I see that I would just be wasting my breath."

"I will do no such thing, so you are quite right," McGonagall agreed. "But if you're _that_ concerned, I will talk to Potter about keeping the dangerous tricks to a minimum."

Snape huffed. That would do little good. Not with McGonagall praising him in the same breath she would use to scold him. Once again The-Boy-Who-Lived was the Gryffindor hero and no one seemed keen to explain to him that this was not his duty.

"Good day, Minerva," Snape said coldly. He didn't wait for a reply before sweeping out of her office.

* * *

Even though the gatherings of the DA were not strictly forbidden since the departure of Umbridge, it was still good fun to sneak around and be a part of a very selective group that most students didn't even know about.

What was even more fun was to see everyone improve as fast as they were. Harry was sometimes very peeved about the horrid DADA lessons they had had over the years. To know how fast his classmates could come along if taught properly was a clear indication of how lacking their education had been.

Everyone was now able to cast a fully corporeal Patronus, even the most hopeless students like Neville. Harry only hoped they would hold up against real dementors but he had faith. If _he_ was able to produce a happy enough memory, his classmates surely would be able to as well.

They were now getting started on learning non-verbal spells. It would be a big advantage in any duel if the opponent was unable to discern your attack. Harry thought it to probably be very useful in the future and none of his 'students' had disagreed. It was, however, a lot harder than anticipated.

For the better part of an hour, people had paired up attempting to cast spells as they waved their wands frantically. No one spoke a word and nothing seemed to happen. It was only near the end of the lesson that Ron – who was paired up with Harry – grunted after being hit with a silent stinging hex.

* * *

Harry was still upset with Snape for taking points that he had worked so hard to get. He was overreacting! No one had ever scolded him for flying the way he had before and he was fine. It was not his fault if sometimes people chose to hex bludgers to follow him indefinitely.

The more he thought about it, the more upset Harry got. Fifty points was very excessive after all. Disgruntled as he was, he stumbled into the next DADA class with his friends while not in the best of moods. He sat down at the back of the class with his arms crossed and a scowl firmly in place.

"Are you going to be making a spectacle of yourself again, Potter?" Zabini sneered at him as he took a seat. Malfoy chuckled lightly at the comment but said nothing.

"I hope not," Harry mumbled lightly.

"It'll be okay, Harry," Hermione said. "At least we're in class today. There's simply no room for a mountain troll."

Not soon after she said this, Knots walked into the room acting absolutely giddy while he cradled a cardboard box. He set the box down in the middle of the class, made sure that it was closed off properly and addressed the class.

"I have another treat for you today," Knots said, his voice almost sing-songy. "Harry, if you would be so kind."

Knots gestured to the box but Harry didn't move.

"Come on, Harry," Knots tried again. "Trust me when I say that literally no one else in the school can give this demonstration. And that includes the teachers."

Harry gazed at him blankly before remembering that he was still a student and should probably listen unless he wanted to get punished.

"Now," Knots said, "As you all know, there are certain abilities amongst wizards that are exceptionally rare. One of those abilities is to speak in Parseltongue."

Harry groaned loudly causing students from both houses to laugh.

"Settle down, class," Knots ordered. "And watch closely."

Knots carefully opened the flaps of the box before taking a few large steps backwards. It only took a few seconds before a snake started to slither out of it. Its thin body was chrome yellowish in colour with dark greenish crossbands along its length. Its snout was very small and the snake was not all that big. It was probably about 40 inches long.

A few girls and one boy screamed, agitating the snake. Knots hushed them but couldn't get them to come down from their chairs. As if the snake couldn't get to them there.

"Go on, Harry," Knots encouraged. "Talk to it."

Harry sighed but fearing that the snake might actually be dangerous, he did as he was told.

"I'm sorry that my foolish professor brought you here," Harry told it sympathetically.

The snake reared its head and turned to look at Harry. "Issss he alwaysss sssso ssstraining?"

"Pretty much," Harry chuckled. He sat down on the floor and crossed his legs, completely at ease. "So where do you come from?"

"I come from the big watering hole," The snake said. "Where the water isss poisssson."

Harry thought about this for a moment. "You come from the sea?"

"If that issss what you humansss choosssse to call it."

"I hope you're not too uncomfortable on dry land," Harry frowned.

"I misssss my watering hole," The snake confessed. "But I can be dry. It issss no problem. Why are the other humansss sssso jumpy?"

Harry looked at his classmates. They seemed to be even more unnerved than when the snake appeared. They were probably still biased against parselmouths.

"It's because I'm talking to you," Harry explained. "It's an ability that wizards don't like."

"Then they are foolssss," The snake said. "It issss alwaysss better to undersssstand each other."

"I couldn't agree more," Harry said. "Are you venomous?"

The snake opened its mouth and showed off its large fangs. "Yessss," It said. A few people were starting to scramble for the door. The snake uttered a series of hisses that sounded like laughter to Harry.

"You won't bite anyone, right?" Harry asked, chuckling along.

"No," The snake said honestly. "I cannot eat you humansss ssso there isss no point. Unlessss one of you would attack me."

Harry glanced over at Knots who was eagerly taking notes. He was not deterred in the slightest.

"Would it be okay if I asked you to go back in the box?" Harry said. "I will make sure you end up somewhere nice again. As long as you don't bite anyone."

"Yessss," The snake complied. "Ssssee to it that you do. I am ssssleepy anyway. I will go back now. Goodbye, human who sssspeaks with ussss."

"Goodbye," Harry said. He watched the snake slither back into the box and closed it.

"Excellent, Harry!" Knots said. "Thirty points to Gryffindor for that once in a lifetime spectacle."

"Thanks, Professor," Harry said. "Say, could you take this snake to Hagrid when you're done? He'll probably know where to release it."

"Anything for you, Harry," Knots said. "But first, I am planning a little excursion. Everyone, follow me!"

Everyone got up and waited for Knots to lead the way but he had gone to a closet to fetch something first.

"Harry," Hermione whispered. "That was a Belcher's sea snake. They are extremely dangerous."

"It's okay," Harry said casually. "It was nice."

Malfoy snorted causing Harry to frown at him.

"Never thought I'd hear a Gryffindor call a snake nice," Malfoy chuckled. But there was no animosity in his voice.

"Well, _this_ one didn't try to hex me," Harry smiled.

"Too true," Malfoy nodded.

Knots returned from his closet with a couple of brooms, handing Harry the best looking one. "I know you know your way around one of these," he said with a wink.

A couple of other students were handed a broom as well before Knots walked away. "Follow me! Don't lag behind now because you _will_ regret missing this."

It wasn't until they reached their destination that Harry groaned in agony. _What is wrong with this bloke?_

They were all cramped inside the second-floor girl's lavatory. Thankfully there was no Myrtle inside. Harry stared at Knots in horror. "Sir you can't possibly expect –"

"Harry!" Knots interrupted him. "Please indulge an old wizard in exploring the rumoured chamber of secrets. Please open the door."

Harry felt everyone's gaze on him. "Hold on, Professor," Harry said slowly. "You are asking me to open the Chamber of Secrets?"

"Yes," Knots said matter-of-factly.

"And you see no problem with that?"

"Harry, it's not like I'm asking you to kill all the muggle-borns, am I?" Knots said a bit impatiently. "And the basilisk has been slain, has it not?"

"I suppose," Harry shrugged.

"Well go on then," Knots said kindly. "Be a good lad and open the door. I'll make it worth your while." A wink told Harry that he could earn even more points this way. At least he would be able to counter Snape's unfair deduction if he complied. He sighed and faced the tiny etched snake that gave away the entrance.

"Open," he hissed and got it on the first try. The path opened up allowing a gaping hole to form beneath everyone's feet. Astonished gasps escaped the students' mouths as they gazed upon the home of the basilisk.

"And now?" Knots asked, his sense of adventure not shaken in the slightest.

"Now we jump," Harry said simply.

"Only five at a time," Knots instructed. "We don't have any more brooms than that. The others wait for our return before they go in."

Harry wondered how Knots even knew that they needed the brooms. He quickly extinguished that thought, though. This Professor knew everything there was to know about Harry and his adventures. Of course, he would know this small detail.

And without another word, Knots jumped in the hole with a broom in his hands.

"Come on, Harry," Hermione nudged as she held on to her own broom. Harry sighed and jumped in with her.

* * *

"Oh, I remember reading about the cave-in," Knots said in awe as he expertly started clearing the rubble with his wand.

"Yeah, I remember that from life experience," Ron said, his voice bouncing off the walls.

Before long, the path was clear and Harry opened the next door. Soon they all stood in the presence of a large skeleton. The basilisk Harry had slain. A broken tooth was tossed haphazardly near its head.

Knots whistled in admiration. "Amazing!" He exclaimed. "Only Harry Potter could have bested a beast like this. And with a sword no less."

"I did have some help," Harry protested.

"I know," Knots said in complete reverence. "From a phoenix. An actual phoenix cried so you might be healed. Oh, it's all so wonderful. Fifty points to Gryffindor."

A great quivering sigh of contentment escaped Knot's lips as he scoured the rest of the painfully boring room. There was really nothing else to be seen and before long, Harry decided to go back up and lend his broom to someone else. He had seen more than enough of the chamber to last him a lifetime.

The others took their time and Harry was painfully aware that they were going to be late for their transfiguration class. Especially since only half of the students had been down so far and Knots still hadn't returned. Harry wondered if Knots had even informed McGonagall.

He decided to try another use for his Patronus which he had discovered while reading up on them to teach in DA. He would rather not get in trouble because of their DADA class.

So he summoned his stag Patronus with ease, causing some of the girls to gasp in astonishment and wonder after which he murmured a message for it to deliver, "DADA class hasn't been dismissed yet and probably won't be for a while. We are in the Chamber of Secrets."

Harry sent the stag off and could only imagine McGonagall's horror at the situation. It made him chuckle.

It couldn't have taken McGonagall more than ten minutes to appear in the bathroom where Harry was leaning leisurely against the wall.

"Mr Potter!" she exclaimed, "What is the meaning of this?"

"This wasn't my idea," Harry said quickly. "Professor Knots thought it would be a good experience or something."

"It's true, Professor," Hermione chimed in. "Harry didn't want to at first but Professor Knots made him."

McGonagall sighed exasperatedly. "I will discuss this with Professor Knots later," she said diplomatically. "Rest assured that this lesson will be made up somehow."

She turned to leave before glancing at Harry. "Oh, and Mr Potter. That was an excellent alternative use for your Patronus charm. Ten points to Gryffindor."

Harry felt elated. He had more than made up for the points that Snape had taken from him before and managed to stay out of the hospital wing for a while now. Things were looking up indeed.

* * *

_Please review_

**Last revised on 09/07/2020**


	31. Chapter 31

_I was overwhelmed by your kind reviews. Thank you all! I love you guys so much. As for those who ask me to make longer chapters – well – that would make it hard for me to update as frequently. I have more time next week so maybe then._

* * *

**Chapter 31**

When Harry looked over at the teachers' table at breakfast the next morning, he saw an interesting change in dynamics. Knots was seated to the left of McGonagall with an utterly defeated look on his face. He was staring at his empty plate as if he were a scolded child.

McGonagall, on the other hand, was glaring at him disapprovingly every now and then, her lips pursed strictly. What was the most befuddling change, though, was the Potions Master sitting to McGonagall's right. He was looking positively smug and pleased with himself while he even engaged in conversation with the head of Gryffindor house. Dumbledore seemed to be taking this all in with that familiar twinkle in his bright blue eyes.

Harry tried his best not to chuckle. He could only imagine the scolding Knots would have gotten. When he noticed Snape's gaze shifting dangerously close to him, he looked away just in time to see the howler arrive.

It landed with an angry thud in front of the Weasley twins.

"Fred!"

"Yes, George?"

"Who do you reckon this is from?"

"Are we even sure it's for us?"

Ron carefully picked up the howler and turned it over. "It's addressed to you both," he said, grinning from ear to ear. "Oh look, mum sent it."

Fred snatched the howler back from Ron. "Well drat."

"Is everyone ready for the show?" George asked loudly, still smiling. A few people chuckled.

"Go for it!" Harry found himself shouting. He wondered what kind of antics the twins had been getting themselves into this time.

"You do the honours, Fred."

"Oh no, George. _You're_ the mastermind."

"I insist, little brother."

"Little? We're the same size!"

"Okay, together," Fred finally decided. "On 3, 2, 1," They opened the howler which unfurled angrily and started snarling as it directed its fury to the twins.

"How _dare_ you two! Have you _completely_ lost your minds?" the familiar voice of Molly Weasley shouted. Her shrilly voice shut up the entire hall as everyone listened with great interest.

"Of _all_ the stupid things you've done over the years this _really_ takes the cake. I don't know which one of you came up with the idea to hunt down Acromantulas in the Forbidden Forest but you are both in severe trouble!"

Fred and George high fived each other at the mention of their crimes as the onlookers gaped at them in a mixture of awe and disbelief.

"Those things cannot be tamed and don't make good pets. I don't know who gave you the idea that they were but you would do well to forget about it!

You could have been severely hurt! You could have gotten yourself killed! And for what?! What would either one of you have done if the other had lost their life in that forest? I bet you didn't consider _that_, did you?"

Both Fred and George's smiles faltered as they considered each other for a few seconds.

"You are both grounded for at least a year! As soon as you get home I am charming you onto a chair and I'm charming the chair to stick to the ground! Your father will want to have a word with you in private!

I hope you're proud of yourselves because we are nothing but disappointed."

The letter shredded itself before the final bits and pieces burst into flames. Fred and George both seemed thoroughly shaken, no longer proud of their antics.

"Sorry Fred," George said after a while.

"Yeah, sorry, George," Fred agreed.

Harry was biting his lip as he felt bad for the twins. That howler had been particularly on point for both of them. More than that, though, it had made Harry think about Snape's reaction to his flying. Had the reason for his outburst been similar to Molly's? He glanced sheepishly at Snape and found the man to be staring right at him, one eyebrow raised. Harry flushed and turned back to his plate.

* * *

Harry's Occlumency lesson of that same evening started with a bit of embarrassment on Harry's part.

"I'm sorry for my earlier reaction, Professor," he offered.

"Doth my ears deceive me?" Snape replied. "Is Harry Potter – the golden boy – finally seeing the light?"

"Cut it out!" Harry chuckled. "I still don't agree with the points you took."

"Oh please," Snape replied. "At the rate you're getting points from certain other teachers, I'm sure your house won't lynch you just yet."

"It's not like I'm asking for them," Harry shrugged. "Knots is just happy to give them."

"As I recall, you already got points for your achievements in your first year," Snape said. "It's not particularly fair to be granted points for it again."

"It's really not," Harry agreed. "But who am I to stop him?"

"You are Harry Potter," Snape pointed out. "And he would move heaven and earth for you.

"Could you just get started already?" Harry groaned.

"I thought you'd never ask," Snape said. "Legilimens."

Harry felt Snape's mind poke and prod against his defences. He tried to shift his focus to the parts that were under siege and managed to hold Snape off for what seemed to be a long time before Snape seemed to realize what he had been doing and shifted to a part in the walls that was weaker. He got through before Harry managed to shift his attention again and was once more privy to Harry's innermost thoughts and memories.

Harry quickly locked his worst memories away. He had found a trick that hadn't failed him yet. A place or state that made him feel safe indeed. He locked his memories away underneath an invisibility cloak. He hadn't explained his trick to Snape yet and thought it better if he discovered it on his own. If he could that is.

Instead, Harry pushed some benign memories forwards of his latest classes, outings with friends, him performing non-verbal magic. Whoops!

Snape pulled back out of Harry's mind. Harry didn't even stumble this time. This was getting easier and easier.

"Much better," Snape praised. "I still managed to get through your defences but it took some calculation on my part. Also, I still don't know what you've done to defend the memories you wish to remain a secret. While I am curious to know what you've done, I will try and find out for myself."

Harry nodded, thankfully taking in the praise.

"Tea?" Snape offered.

"Yes, please," Harry said as he flopped down in his chair." Can't you get some more comfortable chairs, Severus?" he complained. "Honestly. Yours looks much better."

Without a word, Snape flicked his wand and transfigured Harry's chair into a more comfortable one.

"Thanks," Harry said as he took hold of his tea.

"So," Snape started. "Where to begin today?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Surely there isn't _that_ much you could wish to discuss? Absolutely nothing happened lately."

"Well, let's begin with the non-verbal magic, shall we," Snape offered. "I didn't expect Professor Knots to be teaching you anything but Potter lore."

Harry snorted. "You are right about that, sir."

"And yet - " Snape gestured for Harry to explain.

"Well, I've been practising some stuff on my own," Harry shrugged.

"Is that so," Snape said thoughtfully as if he didn't fully believe Harry.

"Honestly, sir, don't you think I kind of have to?" Harry said. "It's not as of our Defence teachers are trying their best to teach us what we need to know."

"Don't speak like that about your professors, Harry," Snape chided lightly. "In any event, I could assist you with your thirst for improvement."

"You would do that?" Harry asked in amazement.

"I might," Snape said. "If you prove responsible enough to undertake what will no doubt come as a surprisingly harsh lesson."

"What does that even mean?" Harry asked.

"It means that I don't want to see you putting yourself into unnecessary danger," Snape clarified.

"Oh," Harry said. "But necessary danger is fine?"

Snape sighed deeply, not dignifying that response with an answer.

"Knots will throw a fit if he finds out," Harry laughed. "He's already jealous of you."

"He's envious, Harry," Snape corrected.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, and he will probably try to murder you for stealing me away for Defence lessons as well."

"The keyword here is 'try'," Snape pointed out. "It is not something I will be losing any sleep over."

"He looked kind of down this morning," Harry said, trying to pry some information out of Snape.

"Did he?" Snape replied, smirking ever so slightly, sipping his tea.

Harry threw Snape a look, grinning broadly.

"Well, alright," Snape conceded. "It would appear that Professor McGonagall was less than pleased with Professor Knots' decision to go down into the chamber of secrets. She was even more upset that her lesson was basically skipped because of it."

"What did she do?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Surely, you must understand that I am not at liberty to discuss such things," Snape replied. "But let's just say it involved some angry transfiguration."

Harry laughed loudly at the idea of Knots being transformed into a Pygmy Puff.

"Indeed," Snape said as comment to Harry's laughter.

Harry refilled his cup of tea eagerly. Snape was fixing him with a pointed stare that Harry still didn't feel particularly comfortable with. "Are you going to stare at me all day or would you rather say what's on your mind?" Harry asked without looking up. He was far too busy selecting a biscuit.

"Cheeky brat," Snape said plainly.

"Git," Harry countered, glancing up to see Snape's reaction. He felt a bit as if he was testing the water so to say. Thankfully, Snape only rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

"So, Professor Knots had you talk to a snake," Snape said.

"Is that a question or a statement?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrow.

"A statement," Snape said. "What did you talk about?"

"Nothing of interest, Professor," Harry said. "We did not plot the demise of all muggle-borns and half-bloods."

"I should hope not," Snape replied hastily. "You need Ms Granger to keep the Gryffindor's point average high."

"They'll always have me," Harry announced proudly.

"Ah yes," Snape agreed. "Our _celebrity_."

Harry snorted, spilling tea everywhere. With a wave of his wand, Snape cleaned up the spill.

"One is supposed to _drink_ tea, not expel it through one's nose," Snape chided with amusement in his voice. "At least _Ms Granger_ knows this."

"You can be such a git," Harry chuckled.

"Those are the whispers that travel these corridors," Snape replied.

For a while, they both drank tea in a comfortable silence. Every now and then, Harry took a new biscuit to nibble on. Snape – sensing that Harry needed a moment to collect himself – grabbed a stack of paper and started reading what was clearly an essay. Every now and then he grunted in dismay, shaking his head.

"Thank you, Severus," Harry suddenly said, his eyes brimming with emotion very ill-befitting of an Occlumens.

Snape regarded Harry for a while. "What for, Harry?" he finally asked.

"For caring enough to get mad at me," Harry replied with a wry smile as he fixed his gaze on his hands. "I get that now."

"Harry," Snape replied, his voice demanding Harry to look back up at him. "You are very welcome. And I appreciate the sentiment. I take it you're not upset with me anymore?"

Harry shook his head. "Not at all, Professor. At least you didn't send me a howler."

Snape chuckled. "That is the benefit of my position. I can simply summon you to my office."

"Just be careful," Harry warned him. "Your mask might start showing cracks sooner or later."

"Never," Snape replied. "Don't you worry about me."

"If you say so. Want to play some exploding snap?" Harry suddenly asked.

"Heavens, no," Snape replied in pure horror. "How about a nice game of wizarding chess?"

* * *

Time had flown by faster than Harry could have ever guessed. Nothing too weird had happened. Even Knots' classes – though still fairly Harry-centred – had become much more bearable and actually useful.

Knots demonstrated several spells and always used Harry as an assistant. That was how Harry found out that the man – despite his many shortcomings – did, in fact, know a thing or two about defence and duelling.

"Stupefy!" Knots shouted.

"Protego," Harry countered easily. The force of the blast shoved Harry a few steps backwards but his shield held. Harry wondered if Knots would have used the same amount of force on any other student and decided that he probably wouldn't. This was just fine with him. Voldemort wouldn't hold back either.

"Very good, Harry!" Knots complimented, "Everyone take a good look at the stance Harry took. He has his legs apart and his knees slightly bent. One foot is pointed in my – his attacker's – direction while the other is at an angle of about 45 degrees behind him. Perfect form."

Harry had mastered both the shielding charm and the stunning curse a long time ago and he knew that of all the Gryffindors present, many of them had as well. Those that were in the DA had practised the spells for weeks on end and now they used them as a warm-up exercise every session. The Slytherins were sure to be overwhelmed today.

"Now pair up and practice these spells," Knots ordered.

Eager to knock some sense into the Slytherins, all of the DA members – including Neville – sought to be partnered with someone of the opposing house.

Harry didn't even need to ask someone. He was approached first.

"Potter," a slick voice said. Harry whirled around to come face to face with a smiling Malfoy, his hand extended. "Want to pair up with me?"

Harry scanned his face for a moment before deciding that there was probably no malicious intent. He took Malfoy's hand and shook it, "Sure thing, Malfoy," he responded amicably.

As they faced each other, a familiar smirk crept on Malfoy's face as he said, "Scared, Potter?"

Harry chuckled at the familiarity. "You wish."

Malfoy fired first. He wasn't a bad dueller and got the hang of the spell fairly quickly. While he did, Harry thought it an opportune moment to try and practice a soundless Protego. He found that as soon as you get the hand of doing one spell soundless, the rest are not that hard anymore. And before he knew it, he was blocking every stunning hex Malfoy threw at him without a sound.

"How are you doing that?" Malfoy asked breathlessly after a while.

"It's all a matter of focus," Harry explained. "Normally you would focus on three things equally namely the wand movement, the magic you need to use and the incantation." Harry felt himself slip into teacher mode but, for some reason, he didn't mind. "When you're going for non-verbal magic, you need to draw more focus to the name of the spell. I would say about two-thirds of your focus needs to remain on the incantation and the other third should be divided among the wand movement and your magic."

Malfoy stood there, looking a bit befuddled.

"Go ahead and try it," Harry encouraged. "Try the Stupefy," He easily got back into his defensive stance standing at the ready though he knew not to expect anything anytime soon.

In the meantime, Slytherins were flung all across the room. The Gryffindors clearly got the hang of these spells much faster than the Slytherins did. It wasn't exactly fair, of course, but when were the Slytherins ever fair? Knots thought himself an amazing teacher when he saw the results the Gryffindors showed and even went as far as to praise the natural Gryffindor talent when it came to duelling.

He granted points freely throughout the lesson and, for once, not only to Harry.

Malfoy was still trying to cast the spell without speaking but didn't manage and was starting to angrily flick his wand up and down.

"Calm down, now," Harry said soothingly. "This is hard to master but getting emotional is not going to help."

"I'm not _emotional_, Potter," Malfoy sneered. Harry simply rolled his eyes at the outburst that was clearly born out of embarrassment and continued to give some pointers.

"Try to focus on the word as if you see it written somewhere," Harry said. "Ah, hold on," He took his wand and cast a spell on his robes. Soon, the word 'Stupefy' was spelled out on his chest in glittering green letters.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "I know how to spell, Potter," he said, the malice once again gone from his voice.

"Yeah, yeah," Harry dismissed. "I found that visualisation helps at times. Focus and try again."

Malfoy mumbled something before taking a deep breath to calm himself. He focused on the word that was sparkling ridiculously across Harry's chest and moved his wand.

Reflexively, Harry drew up his shield to defend against the curse that was suddenly propelled his way. It hit the shield lightly but effectively.

"Wow, well done, Malfoy," Harry praised. "This stuff is really hard to get."

Malfoy flushed a bit. "I don't need your praise, Potter."

"Don't be a prat, Malfoy," Harry said, smiling.

"I'll do my very best to stop," Malfoy replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Harry opened his mouth with half a mind to invite Malfoy to their DA sessions but the words stalled in his throat. Malfoy was still the son of a death eater. His friendly behaviour of late could just be an act to try and get to him. A bit saddened by his own thoughts, he decided that there was not a Slytherin he could trust. Well, save for Snape.

"Thanks for the lesson, Potter," Malfoy said before turning back to walk towards Blaise. He lifted a hand as if in a stalled wave while he walked away.

Maybe one day – when Voldemort was gone for good – they could be friends.

* * *

Harry's occlumency lessons had gone so well lately that Snape didn't even manage to breach his shields half of the time. He had still not discovered Harry's trick with the invisibility cloak and at this point, he probably never would.

Harry didn't experience any visions anymore and his nightmares had become a lot less frequent. As if it had been tied to these things in some way, the anger he had felt so often had dissipated tremendously as well. He had some very nice chats with the Potions Master and was starting to become hopeful for the future in which he would be able to live with his godfather if everything went well.

The OWL examinations were also upon them so Harry could be found in the library with his two friends more often than not. Thanks to those Occlumency lessons he did not even notice it anymore when Snape was summoned one faithful evening.

* * *

Snape was the first to have apparated to the designated spot. He was standing in the shadows of a dark forest. The trees were leafless and warped. The earth appeared dead with not a blade of grass protruding from its cold, lifeless body.

The light of the moon threw an eerie glare across the forest and bats flew across as they hunted for food.

Snape bowed graciously when he found the Dark Lord already present with his wand drawn and casually held in his long, bony fingers.

A joyless smile crept across the face of Voldemort as he took in the sight of the grovelling Potions Master.

"How good of you to come to me, Severus," he said silkily. "Prompt as always. I have always appreciated that in you."

Snape did not respond. Voldemort didn't seem to expect a response in any case.

"Have you any more information for me?" Voldemort asked. Nagini slithered across the ground next to Snape to reach her master. Snape did his best not to flinch.

"It's in the department of mysteries, My Lord," Snape revealed. "But it would appear that Harry Potter is the only one who can retrieve the prophecy."

"I could have expected as much," Voldemort replied. He was petting Nagini absentmindedly as he considered his next move carefully. Snape didn't move a muscle.

"I need to lure the boy into the department," Voldemort said. "I need to bait him into taking the prophecy down." A malicious glint appeared in the Dark Lord's eyes and Snape cringed when he started to laugh dangerously.

"I have a plan, my dear Severus, and you will help me to carry it out."

"Of course, my Lord," Snape replied without hesitation.

"I am going to cast a spell on you – one that I invented myself – to see what you see through your eyes." Voldemort cackled. It unnerved Snape tremendously.

"My lord?" he questioned.

"Don't worry, Severus, your actions will all still be your own," Voldemort assured. "But I will be along for the ride. I need to see the boy at all times. I need to be able to identify him in his darkest moment because _that's _when I will strike."

"Brilliant indeed, my Lord," Snape said in false reverence. It sounded horrible to him. "When will you carry out this plan?"

"Immediately, my old friend," Voldemort replied. "Now stand up and look at me. This will only hurt a second."

* * *

_Oh My Gosh, was this a slice of life kind of chapter? My, it certainly seemed to be one! These are hard for me so I hope it worked out well. Oh alright, there's a bit of angst leaking out from the next chapter already but I have to let you know where I'm going!_

_I would love to hear what you guys think so please review!_

**Last revised on 09/07/2020**


	32. Chapter 32

_Hi everyone! Thank you all for your kind reviews! Just for that, I have written an extra-long chapter for you guys._

_I just wanted to say that I am surprisingly pleased by the feedback you're all giving me about Knots. Writing OC's is always a challenge but I seem to have made him interesting enough to not be too annoying. Thank you all for your acceptance of him._

* * *

**Chapter 32**

Snape was striding towards Dumbledore's office. He had to think of a way to convey his current conundrum without being too obvious. He wasn't sure if the spell Voldemort had invented would also allow for him to read Snape's mind but he was very pleased to be an accomplished Occlumens at the time.

Frustrated beyond belief he spat the sugary sweet password and ascended the stairs while it was still climbing. He hoped dearly that Dumbledore wouldn't greet him unwisely.

He knocked three times and waited for a cheerful voice to tell him to enter. As he opened the door and stared into the familiar blue eyes, he felt a twinge of hatred somewhere near his right eye.

"Albus," Snape greeted coldly. _Please don't say something stupid_.

"Severus, my boy! How have you been?" Dumbledore greeted cordially, "Please have a seat. Lemon drop?"

Dumbledore held out the bowl expectantly and Snape smirked somewhat. He took one from the bowl and put it in his mouth. "Thank you kindly, Albus," he said. _Please pick up on something being wrong. Come on, Albus. Think!_

He saw something flicker in Dumbledore's eyes when he took the sweet but the older wizard made no comment as he set the bowl back down and took his own lemon drop.

Silence permeated between the two as Dumbledore regarded Snape carefully.

"I have no time for pleasantries, Albus," Snape said, "Tell me why you have summoned me."

Dumbledore hadn't summoned him at all. _Don't let me down now, Albus_.

If Dumbledore had been surprised by that statement, he didn't show it. "Curt as always, Severus," he said sadly. "I do wish you would enjoy my company a bit more than that." _Is he stalling? Thinking of something to say?_

"I summoned you in regards to young Harry," Dumbledore replied.

Snape snorted. _Very subtle, Albus._

"I know I have told you this many times already, but this animosity between you two needs to stop," Dumbledore said sincerely. _Well now at least I know he knows something is wrong._

"I do not suffer fools, Albus," Snape said smoothly. "Not even when they're children. _Especially_ not when they're children, actually. That goes for all of them and not just Potter."

Dumbledore fixed him with a pointed glare. "And yet many sources keep telling me that you're treating Harry unfairly. Why do you insist on doing so?"

"I won't go easy on The-Brat-Who-Lived just to spare his feelings," Snape drawled.

"No, I suspect you wouldn't," Dumbledore agreed as he steepled his fingers. "Please do try and treat him normally, Severus," He fixed Snape with a pointed look again. Snape just glared back.

"I will do my best," he replied coldly. _Got it. I will treat him as I have done in the past_.

"If that will be all?" Snape asked, eager to leave this minefield.

"By all means, Severus," Dumbledore said tiredly as he grabbed a bit of parchment and his quill. "You are excused."

As soon as Snape exited Dumbledore's office, he became aware of a familiar voice in his mind. Great, so now the bastard could talk to him as well.

_**It pleases me to know that you are still tormenting the boy, Severus.**_

Snape said nothing. He didn't think he could reply if he wanted to anyway.

* * *

At breakfast, Harry was spooked when one of the school's owls swooped past and dropped a letter in his lap. Harry ignored the curious glances of his friends and read it.

_Mr Potter,_

_Any and all extracurricular activities you may have with Professor Severus Snape are hereby cancelled until further notice. Please refrain from addressing him about this subject or there will be severe consequences._

_All will be explained to you at a later date._

_Please study well for your O.W.L's._

_Cordially yours,_

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore._

Harry frowned and cast a glance at the headmaster who was doing his best to look the other way. He frowned even more and turned his gaze towards Snape who sent him an absolutely malicious glare. Before Harry realized what was going on he yelped loudly, clawing at his scar.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione urged.

"My scar," Harry breathed. It felt as if it was on fire. He withdrew his hand half expecting there to be blood on it but there wasn't any.

"Are you seeing something?" Ron asked.

"No," Harry said, feeling better already. "There was only some pain. It's gone already."

Harry occluded his mind as best he could and chanced another glance at Snape who regarded him with a look of indifference. But the hatred that swam behind those eyes was clear. It almost felt as if Harry was back in his first year. And he didn't have a clue as to why that was.

"What is _he_ mad about?" Ron asked, nodding his head towards Snape. "Did someone paint his room red and gold or something?"

Harry shrugged and went back to his food, fully assuming that Snape was just putting up his act like always. Even if today felt a little bit off.

* * *

Snape dreaded his next potions class. Fifth-year Gryffindors and Slytherins. Amongst them the golden boy himself. This minefield was even more dangerous than the office of Dumbledore had been.

He knew what to do, though, and he was good at it. He donned his mask and slammed open the doors as he took big strides to get to the front of the class. Many students were startled enough to jump in place or drop their quills which involuntarily brought a smirk to Snape's face. That never got old.

He glanced at every one of his students but didn't dare linger when he got to Harry. Fleetingly, he noticed the confusion in the boy's eyes but made nothing of it. Confusion he could work with.

"Today you will all be brewing Skele-Gro," Snape drawled. "If you have taken the time to actually try and learn something by reading the chapter I instructed you to, you will have no problem in brewing this potion. You know where everything is. Try not to implode your cauldrons. Begin."

Snape stood back and watched the students grab hold of the necessary ingredients. Longbottom grabbed newt eyes instead of frog eyes. That was going to give a fun little explosion.

Crabbe was about to grab a sprig of lavender he had absolutely no use for so Snape held out his hand and shook his head. Crabbe ducked his head and checked the recipe in his book again.

_I am surrounded by dunderheads._

Ten minutes after the students had begun their brewing, Snape started patrolling the class. Potter was whispering instructions to Neville.

"Fifteen points from Gryffindor for disturbing the class, Mr Potter," Snape spat. "Keep your eyes on your own cauldron."

Harry sighed exasperatedly and threw the thistle stems angrily into his cauldron. Snape frowned. The boy was not making this easy on him.

"And another twenty points for your cheek and mishandling of potions ingredients," Snape added.

_**Give him detention for tonight.**_

"And come to me for detention tonight at seven," Snape leaned forward onto Harry's desk as obsidian met emerald. "Do not be late," he growled dangerously. _Oh Merlin, no. Why can't the brat behave for once?_

Luckily Harry nodded and got back to work without another word.

Snape whirled around at the sound of a loud clang and found that Neville's cauldron had indeed imploded. "And that's another ten points from Gryffindor, Mr Longbottom," Snape sneered. "It is a blessing that I won't have to see your pitiful attempts at brewing again next year."

"Sorry, sir," Neville squeaked as he tried to clean up the potion residue. Snape ignored him and stalked back to the front of the class. His dark gaze swept across every pale face and halted for a second when the accusatory gaze of Draco met his. Odd. But an assessment he would best lock away for later.

Near the end of the class, he peered into Harry's cauldron to see the perfect potion bubbling inside of it. "The potion should be an off white colour," Snape said coldly. "Yours is eggshell." _Is that really the best you can come up with, Severus? _

Harry's mouth fell open at the blatant ruse.

"You've got to be kidding me!" he said. Snape's eyes narrowed.

"You will get a Dreadful for your grade today, Mr Potter," Snape said. "Make sure you're not late for detention." With a swish of his wand, he vanished Harry's potion and walked away without another word.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione whispered.

"Don't," Harry said angrily. "Forget it. Let's just go."

* * *

The Dark Lord hadn't interfered with Snape's thoughts for the rest of the day. Snape would expect him to have been quite bored with Snape teaching classes and everything. He nevertheless did his best to show clear favouritism for his Slytherins while taking away points from the other houses at the slightest problem.

He did not look forward to his seven o'clock appointment today. At dinner, he had seen Harry stare at his plate with enough anger to shatter it if looks could kill. He hadn't eaten a bite. Snape was terrified that Harry would say something compromising. He would just have to make sure that the boy didn't get a chance.

He looked up from grading third-year essays when he heard a knock on the door. He checked the time. It was five to seven.

"Enter," He said coldly.

Harry stepped inside and looked absolutely furious. _Uh oh, better say something quick._

"Don't even bother me with your usual excuses, Potter," Snape said harshly. "Get to scrubbing cauldrons without so much as a peep or I will have your hide."

Harry shut his trap with a loud click of his teeth and did as he was told. _Thank Merlin._

Snape went back to grading his essays, hoping that Harry could keep his temper.

_**Let him know how you feel about his father.**_

Snape groaned inwardly. "Put some more effort into it, Potter," he growled nastily. "And look at those spots you missed. Must you always be so lazy and incompetent? You are as bad as your father."

Harry grit his teeth but didn't react. _Good boy_.

_**Keep going.**_

"As if it wasn't bad enough that he was strutting around the school as if he owned it," Snape continued with a heavy heart. "No, he also needed to put his hands on any girl he found even slightly attractive."

Harry growled lowly into his cauldron but still didn't react. The hand that had grabbed the outer side of the cauldron had turned white and he stopped scrubbing as he breathed a bit harder. _No, don't crack now._

_**Almost there.**_

"It was honestly luck on your part that he finally ended up with your mother and had you. I don't even want to know how many half-brothers – and sisters you've got that are polluting our wizarding world. I doubt he stayed faithful to your mother at all."

"Just shut up!" Harry shouted. "What is your problem?! Why are you saying these things?"

The tears in those rage-filled eyes broke Snape's heart.

"Because they are true," Snape replied coldly. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you wanted to know more about your parents."

"You're just jealous!" Harry shouted. "Jealous because my father could actually get the girls he liked. Not like you. You've probably been alone your entire life!"

That struck a nerve for sure.

_**Strike him**_

He couldn't be serious. Snape sharply raised his hand, expecting Harry to flinch. He stopped, his hand hanging in the air, ready to come down full force. But how could he strike a child? How could he strike _this_ child?

Harry did not flinch though. He glanced at Snape's hand before actually having the gall to start laughing, "I know you would never hit me, Snape," Harry said snidely. "Not after –"

SLAP

_Merlin, what have I done_. Snape slapped Harry hard. Hard enough for the child to stumble to the ground. He had been about to spill his secret in the presence of the Dark Lord. Snape could not hand him that weapon.

Potter just sat there, his legs folded beneath him while he stared unblinkingly at the adult he had begun to trust. A small trickle of blood slid down his lip where a tooth had chipped it. Snape felt his chest tighten as he did his best to maintain his scowl. It took but a few seconds that seemed to last an eternity before Harry scrambled to his feet and yanked open the door. Snape automatically reached out for him.

_**Let him go.**_

Snape obeyed.

* * *

Harry ran away from Snape's office as fast as he could. He was willing his tears not to fall but could feel the burning sensation of Snape's hand against his cheek. It stung. It stung worse than Vernon's slaps ever had.

"Harry, are you okay?"

The voice stopped Harry in his tracks and he looked up to see Professor Knots.

"I'm fine, Professor," Harry said softly.

"You're hurt," Knots said, carefully examining Harry's face. "Who did this to you?"

"It doesn't matter," Harry replied. But in reality, it mattered so much to him.

"Why don't you join me in my office for tea?" Knots offered. "You look like you could use someone to talk to."

Harry nodded obediently. He really could. But Knots was not Snape. Knots didn't know Harry's secrets and Harry was not about to tell him. But tea sounded nice.

"Come along then," Knots said gently. He put a hand on Harry's shoulder and guided him to his own office. Inside, Harry gratefully took the teacup he was given and sat down across from Knots.

"Do you want to tell me who hit you, Harry?" Knots said gently.

Harry shook his head furiously. He might not have liked Snape very much at that moment but he didn't want him to get into any trouble either.

"That's alright," Knots agreed. "Not a problem. Are you quite prepared for your OWL's?"

Harry frowned at the sudden question but shrugged as he answered it. "I'm getting there. Hermione is really keeping us on top of things."

Knots chuckled. "I bet she is. Clever little witch that one. I just know you'll get an O for defence, though. If you don't, I will march down to the bureau myself and demand that they change your grade."

"Yeah, thanks, Professor," Harry sighed. This was starting to feel odd. It was almost as if Knots was trying to invade Snape's territory and Harry didn't like it. He set his empty cup down and stood.

"Thanks for the tea, Professor," he said.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay a bit?" Knots asked eagerly.

"I'm sure," Harry replied. "I'd like to go to my friends now."

"I understand," Knots said, nodding slowly. "Good evening Harry."

"Good evening, Professor."

* * *

The next week was an odd one, to say the least. Every morning at breakfast, Dumbledore would offer Snape a lemon drop and Snape would accept it almost eagerly every time. It was almost as if those lemon drops might have been fabricated by Voldemort himself because Snape became all the angrier for it.

He was curt and volatile towards his students and more than ever, they would part ways every time the dungeon bat approached. He and Harry didn't say a word to each other anymore. The only exception was if Snape needed to say something derogatory about Harry's work which Hermione always assured him was perfect.

Knots really seemed all too eager to dominate Harry's spare time but was unsuccessful. Harry buried himself in his work and in the DA. He practised his non-verbal magic until he was spent. It was all he could do to ignore the sudden turnaround Snape had made. It really got to Harry.

With his emotions all over the place, he was less and less able to occlude properly. And he was starting to see things again. It was all very benign, though, and he didn't wake up in a cold sweat. It was always the same door he saw. And the same corridor. The corridor in which Arthur Weasley was attacked.

* * *

It was the day of the final Quidditch match of the year. Slytherin versus Gryffindor. Unfortunately for Snape, he had no choice but to attend. His house _was_ playing after all.

He was starting to feel increasingly exhausted. It was one thing to hide your true self during certain parts of the day as long as you could relax that mask in the privacy of your own chambers but this – this was slowly starting to eat away at Snape. And he couldn't get a certain raven-haired Gryffindor out of his mind. He hated himself for what he had done and there was nothing he could do to fix it.

He could see the damage he had done every morning at breakfast and in every potions class and it broke him. He sincerely hoped that this charade could end soon so that he could explain himself.

But for now, he was present at the last Quidditch match with a frustrated Dark Lord watching along.

"And they're off!"

Snape looked up to see both teams ascend into the sky, some with far more speed than others.

"Do try to stay on your broom everyone. It's windy out there!" Jordan Lee shouted quite unhelpfully.

"Lucian Bole seems to have it in for Potter today. He's right on his tail! I hope he realizes you're not supposed to hit any players with your bats."

Harry had seemed to notice the wayward beater and dodged sharply to the right, narrowly missing a goalpost. Bole – who was not nearly as light or quick – wasn't able to follow Harry and decided to go stalk someone else.

Harry glanced at Draco who was searching for the snitch. When he saw Harry approach he briefly looked up but went right back to his search.

"Flint scores! 10-0 for Slytherin," Jordan whined.

Harry spotted a sheen of something near the Slytherin goalposts and lazily went in that direction, trying not to get Malfoy's attention. A gasp from somewhere behind him meant that he had, in fact, noticed and Harry picked up speed, sensing the other seeker right behind him.

He dodged several players that Malfoy didn't manage to get around and was just starting to relish in the fact that this match would be over quicker than he had hoped when he was hit out of nowhere by a bludger. It had connected with his left shoulder, knocking him completely off course.

When Harry glanced back as he ignored the pain, he realized that he had lost the snitch. Luckily for him, Malfoy seemed to have the same problem.

His shoulder was throbbing painfully but it was nothing he couldn't handle. A tiny flicker of hope told him to look to the stands. He spotted Snape sitting there but his expression showed nothing but hate. So much for hoping he would still care.

Harry refocused his attention and ascended once more. Favouring his right arm to steer his broom he continued looking for that blasted golden ball. The grey clouds that were blocking out the sun didn't exactly help with that either.

The pain made him restless and he began patrolling the pitch more actively, more swiftly. He dodged players and bludgers as his eyes scanned every inch of the field effortlessly.

"50-20 for Gryffindor!" Jordan cheered when Alicia scored another goal.

He saw it again. It was flitting right above the ground like before. Harry grinned. Malfoy was far too high to get to it in time. He forced his broom into a nosedive and went after the snitch.

Copying his move from last time, he extended his hand to get the snitch but the erratic little thing shot upwards at the last moment. Stabilising his broom, Harry turned sharply and went upwards after the ball. By now, Draco had spotted the struggle and was on his way himself. The snitch dodged both of the seekers at the last moment, almost causing them to collide but they managed to merely brush past each other at the last moment. Unluckily for Harry, Draco had bumped his injured shoulder causing him a moment of jarring pain.

Ignoring it, he turned to go after the snitch once more. It hadn't left his vision yet. It flew towards the goalposts and Harry as well as Malfoy went after it once more. But Harry was faster.

As the snitch reached the last of the three Gryffindor goalposts, it decided to sharply go backward. Harry cursed loudly and grabbed hold of the goalpost in order to make as sharp a turn as he was able. His shoulder cried in anguish while he did but he needed his good arm to keep a hold on his broom.

Malfoy – who had not been as quick on his feet – missed the goalpost and soared past it, trying to turn as fast as he could. But it was far too late at that point.

"Potter catches the snitch! Gryffindor wins the match and the cup!"

Harry held onto the snitch painfully as he landed his broom. His team landed beside him as they always did to congratulate him on their victory. Harry winced when George gave him a one-armed hug.

"Whoops! Sorry," George said, quickly releasing Harry from his grip.

"You'd best go to the hospital wing with that shoulder," Fred insisted.

"After the victory party, okay?" Harry suggested. "I wouldn't want to miss it."

Harry chanced one last glance at Snape but didn't find him. He must have already gone back to the dungeons. No matter. That dungeon bat was not going to ruin this victory for him.

* * *

Snape was practically seething with rage. Time to go take it out on someone. He met the Slytherin Quidditch team in their common room and glared at them angrily.

Most of them ducked their heads in embarrassment or fear – both options were agreeable with Snape – but some dared to look him in the eye.

"What was that abominable performance I was just forced to bear witness to?" He snarled. _Harry, have you no brain to fuel that damaged body of yours?_

"What have you been practising on that pitch every week? Ballroom dancing?!" He shouted. The few Slytherins that hadn't ducked their head before, did so now. _I should break your broom in half and forbid you from ever stepping foot on that field again._

"I can't believe you let Gryffindor get the best of you AGAIN," Snape roared, spittle escaping his mouth sporadically. _Why do you insist on trying to throw your life away?_

"And Draco, why do you keep getting bested by that blasted Potter?" Snape growled. "Even when _injured_ he flies circles around you!"_ I can't believe you would disobey my orders again._

"Perhaps it's time that your team looked for a different seeker," Snape added softly, the fire somewhat gone. _Have you any idea how worried I was?_

"I suggest you practice a lot over the summer because I will not stand for this sort of performance any longer," Snape finally growled.

He swept out of the common room before his emotions would show and headed straight back to his private chambers. It was time for a glass of fire whiskey. Make it two.

* * *

The time had come for Harry to take his O.W.L examinations. He was ready for them. He didn't feel nervous in the slightest, no, it was more as if he was in a constant misty haze on the day itself.

Lack of sleep because of the constant visions of that door combined with the hopeless feeling of loneliness left him very much on the brink of despair. The year was almost over and even _that_ filled him with uncertainty. Sirius hadn't been exonerated yet and with the current way Snape was treating him, he didn't think he would be welcome in Spinner's End either. He'd rather go and live under a bridge than face the Dursleys again.

His Potions examination went very well. They were asked to brew the draught of living death which Harry could brew with his eyes closed at that point. The written examination seemed almost too easy and by the end of it, he wondered if he had missed some trick questions or something. But Hermione didn't notice any either, securing this small victory for Harry. Solemnly, he wondered if Snape would be proud of him.

Defence Against the Dark Arts was equally easy. He had gotten extra points for performing the Patronus charm which was a miracle in and of itself with the little amount of happiness Harry felt at that moment. And if that hadn't convinced the examiner to give him an O on the subject, the fact that he performed many of the requested spells without uttering a sound probably did.

Divination felt as if it went absolutely dreadfully. But with that particular subject, you never really knew for sure. The irony of that thought made Harry roll his eyes at himself.

Transfiguration went as well as could be expected. Harry was able to turn the teacup into a kitten but didn't get full credit because the kitten's fur still had the same flowery pattern as the teacup did.

Near the evening of the third day of Harry's examinations when he was in the middle of his History of Magic examination, he was struck by a particularly vivid vision.

He saw the door that led into the ministry. When opened, it led inside a corridor in which many glass orbs were stacked highly on shelves. Sirius was there. He was being tortured for something. Voldemort wanted him to say where _it_ was but Sirius wouldn't say.

Startled, Harry quickly handed in his exam which was hardly finished and walked out of the classroom.

Frantic, and not sure where to even begin in order to get Sirius to safety, he started heading towards the dungeons. Amicable or not, Snape was still a part of the order and would surely help him get Sirius to safety. Right? Okay, so he wasn't sure but he could at least try.

Before even reaching the staircase that descended into the dungeons, he was stopped.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Knots asked. How was he always there?

"Nothing, Professor," Harry tried to brush him off as he continued to head down to the dungeons.

"You saw something, didn't you?" Knots suddenly asked.

Harry stalled his movement and turned to look at Knots. "Excuse me?"

"Harry, I want to help," Knots said firmly. "What can I do for you. It's _him_ isn't it?"

Harry wasn't entirely sure what to make of this but, right now, he wouldn't turn down any help he could get.

"I need to get to –" but should he really ask Knots for his help? Wouldn't he just rat him out to Dumbledore if he said anything?

"Go on, Harry," Knots encouraged. "I'm on your side."

"I need to get to the Ministry of Magic."

"Right," Knots replied. "I can apparate you to the alley connected to its entrance but I can't apparate inside, I'm afraid. I wouldn't want to get caught at this hour."

Harry's mouth almost fell open at how easy Knots was making this for him.

"That would already be brilliant, Professor!" Harry said. "Please do it."

"Shall I help you get inside as well?" Knots offered.

"No thanks, Professor," Harry said. "But could you please inform professor Dumbledore or Snape while I'm gone? They will need to know."

"Of course, Harry," Knots said. "Anything for you."

Harry retrieved his invisibility cloak from his dorm room and hurried with Knots outside of Hogwarts and towards Hogsmeade. As soon as they were outside of the barrier, Harry took hold of Knots' arm as tightly as he could and was once again familiarized with that odd sensation of being squeezed through a tube. Soon, he found himself stumbling outside of the ministry of magic.

"You go into that phone booth," Knots said pointing at the machine in question. "And you dial 62442. Just follow the prompts of the operator and you're good to go."

"Thanks, Professor," Harry said hurriedly as he all but threw himself inside of the booth, dialling the numbers. Knots regarded him proudly before apparating back to walk back to Hogwarts.

"What is your business here?" the operator asked.

"I'm here for my godfather," Harry said urgently. Out of a slot, a badge with the text 'Family business' was deposited. Harry took it as the telephone box descended. Harry donned his invisibility cloak and held his wand at the ready. When the doors opened, there was not a soul to be seen.

* * *

_**This visit in your person has been most enlightening, Severus.**_

Snape startled when the Dark Lord spoke to him. He hadn't for a while now, though his presence had remained clear.

_**Potter took the bait. After I summon my Death Eaters, I will go after the boy as well. Come to the Ministry of Magic.**_

And for the first time in weeks, Snape was released from the exhaustingly dark presence of Voldemort. He took a few deep breaths before fully registering what the Dark Lord had said to him. With no time to lose, he all but ran to Dumbledore's office.

Dumbledore barely looked up when Snape burst through his doors without even knocking, but automatically held out his bowl of lemon drops.

"Severus! Can I interest you in –"

"No, Albus, I don't want any of your bloody lemon drops!" Snape interrupted.

Dumbledore breathed a visible sigh of relief as he set the bowl down again. "I never thought I'd be happy to hear those words, Severus. Now, perhaps an explanation is in order?"

"There's no time," Snape said frantically. "The Dark Lord went after Harry. They're in the Department of Mysteries."

Dumbledore quickly rose from his chair. "But how?"

"Questions that Potter will surely be able to answer later if he's not dead," Snape remarked icily.

"You're right. Of course, you're right," Dumbledore agreed. "Let me summon the order."

"I have to go," Snape said. "The Dark Lord is expecting me there."

"Be careful," Dumbledore as he threw some floo powder into the hearth to initiate the call.

* * *

Moronic, suicidal, blasted Potter! What urged him to go to the Ministry of Magic and how did he even get there? Snape knew for a fact that he had been taking his O.W.L.'s only hours before the Dark Lord had released Snape from his spell.

Fumbling with his Death Eater cloak a bit before he was able to drape it around his shoulders, he walked towards the forbidden forest. It was a walk that took longer than ever. At least that was how it felt to him. When he made it outside of the barriers, he donned his mask and apparated directly inside the Ministry of Magic.

He was a very late arrival to the battle and he knew it. He ran through corridors where he expected a battle to be taking place but didn't find a soul. He searched and searched until he heard the muffled sound of battle cries. Dreading to find Harry gravely injured or worse, he stepped into the death chamber.

A full-on battle between Death Eaters and members of the Order had ensued. Snape took his place next to his Death Eater comrades and started throwing mild curses around as he spied for Harry. The boy was fighting next to Black. They seemed to make a good team as they blocked for each other and hexed each other's opponents. Snape felt a vague feeling of familiarity as he saw the two battle. They were as in tune as Sirius and James once were.

Snape threw up a shield when Lupin attempted to stun him. Lupin's spell bounced back and hit the werewolf square in the chest, effectively incapacitating him.

Bellatrix and Black seemed to be in a world of their own as they duelled. Black dodged and blocked Bellatrix' curses with ease but grew overconfident. He was right in the middle of a taunt when Bellatrix hit him squarely in the chest with a curse. It happened so fast that Snape didn't even see what curse it was.

What happened next seemed to happen in slow motion. Black fell backwards with a look of surprise etched on his face. As he fell, his body disappeared into the archway's veil that stood behind him, just as Harry turned around to see what happened. At that moment, Dumbledore arrived, his fury so obvious that the remaining Death Eaters all fled or tried to flee as Dumbledore easily blocked their attempts to get away.

Harry – in all his foolishness – got out of his shock and attempted to go after his godfather. He wanted to go through the veil. It was at that moment that Snape made a decision. He would probably be exposed after this but it didn't matter to him anymore. He rushed forward, ignoring reverted friend and foe as he ran and grabbed Harry's arm before he could go any further.

Furiously, Harry turned around, ready to hex Snape into oblivion but Snape ripped off his mask, stunning Harry for a few seconds.

"Harry, he's gone," Snape said. "You can't go after him. It's too late."

"No!" Harry screamed. "Let me go! I can still save him."

Snape tightened his grip and pulled Harry back towards him as he engulfed the fragile boy in his arms.

"He's dead, Harry," Snape repeated. He knew that it was harsh to say but it needed to be said.

But Harry pushed Snape away with the same fury Snape had seen in Dumbledore's eyes.

"Where is she?" he growled.

Snape looked over his shoulder to see Bellatrix disappear around a corner, cackling maniacally. Harry had seen her too and before Snape could react, Harry had gone after her.

Snape wanted to pursue him when another Death Eater stepped in front of him.

"Well, well," Lucius Malfoy sneered. "You know, I always _did_ wonder about you."

From the corner of his eyes, Snape saw Dumbledore go after Harry. Good. He focused his attention on Lucius, side-stepping the killing curse before it hit him.

"That's a bit much, wouldn't you say?" Snape said lazily as he evaded a quick stunning hex.

"Save it, Severus," Lucius spat. "It's over."

"Sectumsempra!" Snape yelled but Lucius was prepared and rolled to the side. He redirected his wand and cast a non-verbal spell that Snape dodged easily.

The pair of Death Eaters threw hexes as fast as they blocked them, the fierce battle between them almost as entrancing as a dance of sorts. Snape desperately wanted to see what was going on with Harry but knew that he could not lose focus. If he did, he was as good as dead himself.

"Confringo!" Snape cast the curse at Lucius' feet so even though the man threw up a shield, he was still caught by surprise when the ground he was standing on exploded. He stepped backwards, shielding his face from the shrapnel. Snape took this as an opportunity to advance.

He lunged forward with his wand pointed at Lucius as he yelled, "Expellirarmus!"

Lucius' wand flew out of his hand and landed into Snape's but instead of throwing up his hands in defeat or lunging for his wand, the man just started laughing.

"Incarcerous," Snape whispered, wrapping a magical rope around Lucius but this didn't stop the man. "Laugh while you can because I assure you there will be none of that in Azkaban."

"As if I will go to Azkaban," Lucius replied with a haughty sneer. "They will not dare put me in there. I have connections that won't allow it."

"I doubt they will help you this time," Snape said.

"Oh, but what about you?" Lucius said in mock concern. "I don't think you will live all that long anymore."

Snape growled before hexing Lucius' mouth shut. He might have been right but it was not something Snape was willing to consider at that moment. Satisfied that Lucius was restrained, Snape finally went after Harry and Dumbledore.

What he found was a heart-breaking scene of what seemed to be a half-dead Harry who was being cradled by Dumbledore with Voldemort looking on. When Snape stumbled upon the scene, Voldemort turned to look at him and clicked his tongue in dismay.

"What a shame, really," he said. "I always enjoyed your company, Severus. I wish that it wasn't so but you have left me no choice. I _will_ end your life. But not until you suffered for it."

It was at that exact moment that people started flooing in from all the hearths that surrounded the Ministry Atrium. Voldemort didn't hesitate and apparated away immediately. But it was too late. He had been spotted by the minister himself who would no longer be able to deny the Dark Lord's existence.

Snape locked eyes with Dumbledore and saw that they shared the same concerns that were going through Snape at that moment. What would they do with Harry now?

* * *

_There you go!_

_Ugh, that dreaded ministry part. I wasn't about to write too much about events that you all already know about so it was nice to be able to use Snape as a diversion of sorts. I hope you don't all hate me for killing off Sirius but he had to go._

_I also hope the thoughts of Snape and Voldemort weren't too confusing._

_Most of all, I hope you enjoyed it. I'll just go ahead and post this and get started on the next chapter. Please let me know what you all think._

**Last revised on 09/07/2020**


	33. Chapter 33

Time for the next chapter! It was a tad difficult to write for me but I hope it still turned out well.

As always I would like to thank you all for your reviews. I always look forward to them.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 33**

Snape stepped into Dumbledore's office for the umpteenth time in the past weeks. He glanced around at the obvious destruction. Most of Dumbledore's knick-knacks lay broken on the floor. He inwardly cringed when he heard something crunch as he took a miscalculated step forward.

"Do I dare ask what happened here?" Snape asked with a raised eyebrow.

Dumbledore sighed. "Harry has a rather _unhealthy_ way of dealing with his grief," he replied. "But I suppose it was only to be expected."

"It does not surprise me," Snape said as he wiped some parts of something expensive and fragile off a chair before taking a seat. "He's gone through a lot already. It was only a matter of time before he would crack."

Absentmindedly, Dumbledore flicked his wand, restoring a few of his broken things to their former glory, "We seem to be having a rather delicate matter on our hands, Severus," Dumbledore said meaningfully.

"You want to discuss Harry's situation," Snape said. "And more to the point, his accommodations for the summer."

"You are on point," Dumbledore said, smiling slightly. "And I must admit that even I see this as quite the conundrum."

"If only Black hadn't gone to the Ministry," Snape said as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "We could have arranged something between him and Harry."

"Yes well, let's not dwell on what cannot be changed," Dumbledore said. "Sirius' death is to be regretted but he knew of the dangers. I only fear that Harry will blame himself."

"At least the Dark Lord didn't get the prophecy," Snape sighed. "It's a small comfort but it's something."

"I told Harry what the second part of the prophecy entailed," Dumbledore admitted.

"You didn't!" Snape jumped from his seat in disbelief. "What could possibly be the value of that?"

"Hiding things from him has only pushed him towards danger," Dumbledore said. "And I fear that no manner of detention or any other kind of punishment will deter him from finding out the truth. It's just who he is. He was also quite cross with me that I didn't explain your situation to him in full."

"And rightly so," Snape agreed. "Why didn't you?"

"The boy is terrible at hiding his emotions, Severus, you know that as well as anyone. He would have given you away in an instant."

"It doesn't matter anymore, anyway," Snape sighed, sinking back into the chair. "I've finally been exposed."

"Yes, there is that as well," Dumbledore said. "While regrettable, it also pleases me that you might be able to pick up your life from here on out. It has saddened me infinitely to see you occupied with nothing but your duties over the years."

Snape snorted indignantly. "Surely, you jest. I don't suspect I will live that much longer."

"I wish you wouldn't say that kind of thing, Severus," Dumbledore chastised. "I will do everything in my power to keep you safe."

Snape laughed bitterly. "I've heard that before."

A silent moment lingered between the two wizards uncomfortably. Snape instantly regretted what he had said but couldn't take it back anymore.

"What I meant to say was –"

"It's quite alright, Severus, I understand," Dumbledore said tiredly. "I am willing to admit that I too have made mistakes in my life. It is unfortunate that my mistakes often have disastrous results."

"I trust you, Albus," Snape said. "What did you have in mind?"

Dumbledore seemed to cheer up somewhat as he fixed another thingamabob with a casual flick of his wand.

"I would very much like to place young Harry into your care once more," Dumbledore explained.

Snape winced. "I thought you might say that," he grumbled. "But Harry and I haven't exactly seen eye to eye lately. I even –" Snape stopped himself just in time.

Dumbledore sighed. "Severus, you shouldn't hold yourself accountable for your behaviour over the past weeks. I know for a fact that Harry doesn't."

"He does forgive far too easily," Snape agreed.

Dumbledore chuckled. "It is one of his greatest powers."

"Indeed."

"Would it be agreeable for you to become Harry's new guardian?" Dumbledore asked.

Snape scoffed. Saying it like that made it sound so… official. "His guardian? Just like that? Does it even work like that?" he asked incredulously.

"I can pull some strings," Dumbledore smiled. "But only if you both accept. Harry needs a guardian and I know you two have gotten closer already."

"Barely," Snape said.

"Enough," Dumbledore countered. He frowned slightly. "Am I to take your reluctance as a denial, Severus?"

Snape sighed. "No. It's fine by me, really. But –"

"You're still worried about Harry's opinion," Dumbledore finished for him. "Why don't you talk to him? I'm sure it will clear up one or two things for both of you."

Snape flicked his wand and fixed a couple of trinkets near his feet. "Do you have any idea of how Harry made it to the Ministry yet?"

"Unfortunately, I know exactly what transpired," Dumbledore sighed.

"Do tell," Snape urged curiously.

"It would appear that Finneas apparated Harry to the Ministry's doorstep."

"Excuse me?" Snape replied, his eyes wide. "Why in the world would he do that?"

"To be part of Harry Potter's story, I presume," Dumbledore said. "Finneas said as much anyway."

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose tightly as he told himself to not go and hex the new defence teacher. "Where do you keep getting these people, Albus?" he groaned.

Dumbledore smiled sadly. "It is getting harder and harder to fill this position but I don't think it would be wise to have Finneas remain at this school any longer."

"You think so?" Snape asked incredulously. "This man was eerily aware of all of Potter's accomplishments. I knew that much but to actively deliver him to Voldemort just to see what would happen?"

"He tried alerting us as soon as he made his way back to Hogwarts but we were already gone," Dumbledore explained. "When he couldn't find us, he just went to watch everything unfold by means of his Spy Glass."

"You cannot be serious, Albus," Snape exclaimed. "You must start screening your Defence teachers for illegal artefacts because this is starting to get ridiculous."

Spy Glasses were extremely rare but illegal objects that allowed the user to focus in on one person in particular. It was illegal for obvious reasons. Thought it wasn't physically harmful in any way, the person the Spy Glass was focused on would have his privacy seriously invaded. There was no telling for how long Knots has been spying on Harry.

"What will you do about it, Albus?" Snape asked. "The things he saw –"

"Even though you cannot be a spy anymore, I do understand that any knowledge attained through this object is sensitive and cannot be kept in the wrong hands," Dumbledore said reassuringly. "Naturally, Finneas has been obliviated of the memories pertaining to the Spy Glass and the artefact has been confiscated and sent to the Ministry."

"That was fast," Snape said, shaking his head.

"Yes, well, I thought it prudent to handle this matter in a timely fashion lest he encounters a certain potions master."

Snape huffed indignantly. "Surely, I know not of what you speak, headmaster."

"Of course you don't," Dumbledore replied, smiling happily. "Lemon drop?"

"Never again, Albus. Never again."

* * *

At lunch, Harry was picking at his food. He didn't want to eat. If he did, he was sure the food wouldn't stay down. Sirius would never eat again so why should he?

He was vaguely aware of his friends trying to include him into their conversation but he ignored their efforts and stared into his porridge as if it held the secrets of the universe. It couldn't tell him why Sirius had to die, though.

Even the event of Knots being dragged off by Aurors hadn't cheered him up. Hermione had tried to explain to him that Knots had been caught using an illegal artefact but he just didn't care.

Next to his untouched bowl of porridge, a note suddenly appeared. Harry regarded it lazily but didn't open it. He didn't want to. There was nothing the note could say to make him feel better.

Hermione had noticed as well though and when Harry remained unresponsive, she picked up the note and read it to him.

_Mr Potter,_

_Kindly come to my office when you're done staring at your food.  
There is much we need to discuss._

_S.S._

"I guess it's from Snape," Hermione whispered.

"Yeah," Harry said. "It is."

Dumbledore had explained that Snape had been under some sort of spell cast by Voldemort over the last few weeks. He explained that Snape hadn't meant anything he had said or done and that he was back to normal now.

While Harry was happy to hear that, it did nothing to deflate the bitter resentment he felt towards himself. He had failed to occlude properly and because of that, Sirius had come to his rescue. Someone else had died for him. And as bad as Cedric's death had been, in the case of Sirius, Harry had lost someone precious to him. It was the last thing he had that resembled a family and now he had no one.

Where would he even be going this summer?

Angrily, he shoved his bowl away from him and glanced towards the empty seat where Snape should have been.

"Harry, I-" Hermione started.

But Harry interrupted her. "Please don't," he snapped. "Please don't tell me how sorry you are. And please don't tell me that everything will be alright because it won't be."

Without giving Hermione the chance to respond, Harry got up and left the great hall with a quickened pace, only slowing down once the doors shut loudly behind him.

As he headed towards Snape's office, he walked as slowly as he could. He did not want to face the great dungeon bat. He didn't want to face anyone right now. The last person who tried to talk to him about what happened had their belongings smashed into tiny bits and pieces. Harry couldn't even feel guilty about that. He felt empty.

The journey down felt as if it took hours and he still didn't feel ready when he stood in front of Snape's office door. So he just looked at his feet and tried to regain some lost strength. He didn't know where to begin and look for it though.

How long was he standing there? Ten minutes? Twenty perhaps? He couldn't bring himself to raise his hand to knock nor did he want to walk away again. Instead, he was caught in some sort of limbo, not knowing how to move forward or backwards.

Eventually, the door opened by itself, creaking painfully as it did. Snape stood stoically at the other side, regarding Harry regretfully.

"You've been standing here for a while," he said. "Perhaps you could come inside and take a seat? Drink some tea perhaps? It might be favourable to standing here in the cold."

Harry nodded and walked inside, not even pausing as he passed Snape. As he sat down, Snape took the seat across from him and handed Harry a cup of tea.

"Harry, I would like to offer you my sincerest apologies," Snape said.

"It's alright, sir," Harry said softly. Watching the smoke float out of his cup was hypnotic and made him feel calmer. Was that chamomile he smelled? And there was a hint of lavender.

"I don't think it's alright at all," Snape replied. "You are kind to say so but I struck you."

"So you did," Harry agreed. "But Voldemort made you do it."

Snape tried to ignore the mention of the name. "True as that may be, I still want to apologize."

"If it means that much to you, sir, I forgive you," Harry said honestly. "I understand why you did it and I know that you didn't mean it. Maybe try to warn me somehow when it happens again, okay?"

"It won't happen again," Snape sighed. "I was discovered."

"Oh yeah," Harry said. For the first time that day, he raised his eyes to meet Snape's gaze. "I forgot about that. Will you be okay?"

"Don't worry yourself over my wellbeing," Snape said evenly. "It doesn't matter. What matters right now, is you."

Harry shrugged. "I told you I forgive you."

"Yes you did and I would have to say that you are far too forgiving," Snape said. "But that's not what I meant."

"Please don't even start with me," Harry said solemnly. "I know you and Sirius didn't get along. So I don't need you telling me that you're sorry he's gone."

Snape moved to put a hand on Harry's shoulder but when the boy flinched, Snape stopped his movement, feeling ashamed of himself. Forgiven but not forgotten it would seem.

"The headmaster has discussed the matter of your lodgings with me," Snape said, ignoring the pang of guilt he felt.

"I have to go back to the Dursleys, don't I?" Harry asked. The defeat in his voice was clear and it broke Snape's heart to hear it.

"Of course not, Harry," Snape said harshly. He didn't want there to be any doubt left in Harry's mind about that. "I would _never_ allow for you to go back there. Do you understand?"

"But, Professor," Harry looked up again, those big green eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I have nowhere else to go. It isn't safe where I'm wanted and I'm not wanted where it's safe. I'm not even allowed to stay at Hogwarts."

"If it is agreeable with you, I would be willing to welcome you into my home," Snape said matter-of-factly.

Harry blinked at him in confusion. "But sir," he said, "Won't you be in danger because of me? I thought that one summer was already risky."

"It was," Snape agreed. "But the Dark Lord knows where my true loyalties lie now. I am in danger whether you are with me or not. Be that as it may, the wards surrounding my house should be more than capable of keeping us safe."

Harry was completely taken aback by Snape's proposal. He furrowed his brow in confusion. "Would it be temporary? You know, until you found a place for me to stay permanently?"

"What would _you_ desire, Harry?" Snape asked. He knew what _he_ wanted but he wouldn't force the boy to do his bidding.

"I want to be somewhere I'm wanted," Harry said. Snape noticed how Harry subconsciously grabbed at his robes where his heart would be and twisted his hand in the fabric. "I don't want to go with someone who is looking for another place for me. I want to belong somewhere."

"Even if that place is with me?" Snape urged calmly.

Harry seemed to think this over. He spoke softly. "If you will have me, I would like that very much."

A hint of a smile graced Snape's lips. "I too would enjoy your company, Harry," he admitted. "And if you are certain of your choice, we can make it so that I would be your legal guardian."

Harry chuckled softly. "Imagine what the Slytherins would say about you if you adopted a Gryffindor," His face faltered again. "Or did you still want to keep all of this a secret?"

"Not at all," Snape replied. "There is no longer any threat that would stem from that knowledge. You may speak of this to whomever you would like. I will not stop you this time."

"Do you think I could invite my friends over sometimes?" Harry asked hopefully.

Snape took a deep breath as if resigning himself to the idea. "At times," he agreed. "But certainly not every week."

Harry ran a hand through his hair before resting it on the back of his neck. "This seems unreal," he said.

"I'm sure you will get used to the idea in due time," Snape chuckled. "In the meantime, I will inform Professor Dumbledore of your decision. _If_ you're certain."

"I am," Harry replied without a doubt in his mind.

Snape nodded and opened the door, motioning for Harry to leave.

"Thank you, Professor!" Harry said. He sounded less sad than when he came in and Snape was happy to hear it.

"You are very welcome. Now hurry along because I have things to do."

"Yes, sir!"

* * *

Harry all but fell into the common room in his enthusiasm.

"Harry!" Ron cried out. "Be careful. What's up?"

Harry spotted his two friends sitting by the fire, enjoying a game of chess. Hermione – who was sitting with her back to the entrance – glanced over her shoulder curiously to see a flustered Harry make his way over to them.

"What's going on?" she asked, shuffling her seat somewhat to make room for Harry.

"I have some news to share with you," Harry said as his eyes darted over the other occupants of the common room. Silently, he cast a privacy charm before huddling closer to his best friends, "I have a place to stay this summer and all of the following summers."

"That's great!" Hermione instantly said.

"Yeah, good to hear, mate," Ron agreed. "Where are you staying?"

"Well - er - look, I would appreciate it if you didn't freak out about this."

"Why would we freak out?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Because – well –" Suddenly, Harry wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to share this information anymore. His friends didn't know about the true Snape so this would hit them like a brick wall, no doubt.

Nonetheless, he took a deep breath. "I'm staying with Snape."

Ron snorted. "Yeah, very funny. Come on, tell us. Who is it?"

Harry said nothing and just stared sheepishly at the redhead until his eyes widened.

"Harry, you're kidding, right?" Ron asked, his voice slightly panicked.

"Nope," Harry said curtly.

"But he hates you!" Ron exclaimed. "And you hate him!"

"That's enough, Ron," Hermione chided when she saw the look on Harry's face fall. "Let Harry explain."

And that he did. He explained how Snape had come and got him from the Dursleys though he didn't explain exactly in what state Snape had found him. He explained that they had both grown to kind of like each other but that it had to remain a secret in order for Snape to be able to be a spy.

"He offered me to stay with him earlier and he sounded very honest about it too," Harry finished. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you any of this sooner but Snape didn't trust you to keep your mouth shut."

"Well tell him thanks for the vote of confidence," Ron said sarcastically but then the colour left his face. "On second thought, don't tell him that."

"I'm happy for you, Harry," Hermione said, smiling brightly. Ah, good old Hermione. Harry could always count on her to keep a level head. "You deserve to have a home."

"I guess it will be better there than at your relatives'," Ron admitted. "Even if not by much. Will he have you brewing potions all summer long?"

"I sure hope not," Harry chuckled. "He didn't last summer so I'll probably be alright. And you'll be able to visit!"

"Visit that greasy git's house?" Ron asked in shock. "I don't know if I'm ready for that. I don't know if I'll ever be ready for that."

"Oh, grow up," Hermione said as she playfully hit Ron on the shoulder.

"Honestly though," Ron finally said. "If you're happy, I'm happy."

"Me too," Hermione chimed in.

"But if he ever does try to lock you in his dungeons, be sure to send an owl, okay?" Ron said.

"How would he even do that if he was locked up?" Hermione said exasperatedly, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, right."

Harry couldn't help but laugh. He was so happy that his friends understood and were there for him. He looked forward to the summer now. And he couldn't wait to get away from Hogwarts. Right now, it reminded him too much of the mistakes he had made and the people he had lost.

* * *

By the end of the week, it was finally time to leave Hogwarts. The year had passed by much too fast but Harry could use the break.

"Are you packed and ready to go?" Snape asked.

"Yeah," Harry said nervously as he patted his pocket to indicate that his shrunken truck was inside.

"What about your owl?"

"Oh, I told Hedwig to fly to us," Harry explained. "She'll enjoy the flight and it will give her a chance to learn the route."

"If you say so," Snape drawled. He grabbed a handful of floo powder and motioned for Harry to step into the hearth.

"You still won't trust me to do this myself, will you?" Harry frowned.

"I would rather not start off my summer with a full-scale search of Britain just because you took a wrong turn somewhere."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, fine. Be like that."

Snape shrank the last of his necessities and put them inside of his own pockets. "Time to go home."

"Yeah," Harry replied, smiling tentatively. "Home."

* * *

_And year 5 has come to a close if you can believe it. Don't you worry because we are not done. Voldemort is still alive, after all._

_Please let me know what you thought of this chapter. I would like to hear your expectations as well._

_Thanks for reading!_

**Last revised on 10/07/2020**


	34. Chapter 34

_Hello people! Thank you all so much for your kind reviews. The last chapter had me kind of worried but you all seemed to like it just fine so yay!_

_I hope you'll enjoy this one as well. I wasn't sure how to begin this summer but I'm happy with the result._

* * *

**Chapter 34**

When Harry stepped out of the hearth, he did his best not to stumble. He felt the need to prove to Snape that he could do something as simple as flooing, after all. And even though Harry succeeded in stepping out of the fireplace like a normal person, he was still met with Snape's outstretched arm at the ready to keep him from falling.

"I'm fine," Harry said a bit disgruntled.

"Very well," Snape agreed, withdrawing his arm.

With a pop, Zippy appeared before them. "Master Snape has returned!" she exclaimed. "And he brought young master Harry too!"

"Harry will be staying here permanently, Zippy," Snape said. "You may expect him to show up for every school break."

"Even for Christmas?" Harry interjected.

"If you so desire," Snape replied. "Though I am loath to stop you from spending the Christmas holidays with your friends at Hogwarts."

Harry seemed to need to think this through. He grabbed his trunk, ready to drag it up to his room when Snape sighed exasperatedly at his muggle behaviour. "Zippy, please take Harry's trunk to his room."

Snapping her fingers, she complied easily, disappearing right after with a loud pop.

Harry didn't seem entirely sure what to do with himself but Snape didn't feel like pushing him into doing anything so he just strolled into his kitchen to make himself some tea.

Harry stood in the hallway for what seemed like an eternity. He wasn't entirely sure how to feel. While he was grateful to Snape for giving him a place to stay - a place to call home, really – he also felt somewhat guilty towards his deceased godfather. Sirius and Snape didn't see eye to eye after all. Hell, Snape and _his father_ hadn't gotten along either! But somewhere along the line, Snape and his mother had been close friends. So at least she would have approved.

Harry just hoped that the discovery of Snape's loyalty would not get the man killed. If that happened, he wasn't sure if he would survive. His body count was high enough as it was.

He finally stepped into the sitting room where Snape was already sat in front of a cosy little fire which had no use except for its inviting presence seeing how it was not cold in the slightest. He was drinking from a cup of sweet-smelling tea while reading one of his thicker books. He looked up when Harry sank into the couch.

"So, Severus," Harry started, already getting used to the summer dynamic between the two. "Do you think I might be allowed to read some of your –" Harry made air quotes with his fingers. "'forbidden' books?"

Snape regarded him quizzically. "What are you talking about?"

"Those books in those glass cases," Harry said, pointing at the objects of his desire. "I didn't dare ask to be allowed to read them last year but I thought, well, maybe now I can?"

Snape turned to look at the cases Harry was pointing at and smirked. "Those are highly advanced potions books, Harry," he said mysteriously. "What would you even need them for?"

"I want to do some research," Harry said honestly. "See if I can come up with my own potion or something."

"Well, well," Snape said, sounding somewhat impressed. "Is my good influence already taking effect?"

Harry snorted. "That's pushing it a bit far. But can I?"

Snape regarded him curiously and Harry furrowed his brow, clearly uncomfortable with the close scrutiny of his newly assigned guardian.

"Very well," Snape agreed after a short while. "But do try to stay with theorem at first. I will only allow you to start the actual brewing process of your invention once you are completely secure with your hypothesis."

"Got it!" Harry agreed. Snape touched the seamless glass case with his right hand and a door sprang open where Harry could have sworn there was no door before.

"Help yourself," Snape said, gesturing elegantly towards the unlocked treasure trove of information. "But do try to be careful. I urge you to not damage these books. They are as valuable as they are rare."

Harry spent the next few hours carefully perusing the books. He hadn't encountered these titles at any of the shops he had gone to when he purchased his potions books. The knowledge that these tomes held was something he would expect to find in the forbidden section at Hogwarts. Some darker uses were described and Harry read through these as eagerly as through the other pages. For what he had in mind, he would need al the knowledge he could gather.

He jotted down notes as he read and marked down page numbers on a separate piece of parchment just so he could find the information again should he so require. He noticed Snape eying him curiously every now and then but he paid him no attention.

Both of them startled when the doorbell rang. Snape shot Harry a glare that clearly meant '_stay here'_ and went up front to open his door.

Harry stayed put but listened as intently as he could. It was to no avail, really. He heard some murmuring that could indicate a civil conversation between Snape and what sounded like a woman. After a few minutes, Snape walked past Harry without a word, retrieved a potion from somewhere and walked back to the front door. There was a bit more murmuring, followed by the closing of a door after which Snape returned and went back to his book as if nothing happened.

* * *

This went on over the course of the next few weeks. Harry was practically drowning himself in self-study, effectively forgetting his grief and anguish as his eyes took in the aged sentences strewn across hundreds of pages.

The pieces of parchment he surrounded himself with seemed to contain notes that were chaotically taken but Harry had a method to the madness and could make sense of it all without a doubt. When he would finish up for the day, he gathered the pages protectively, making sure not to leave a single one behind for Snape to find.

Snape was keeping mostly to himself. He seemed quite disinterested in Harry's little project. Either that, or he was feigning apathy alarmingly well.

He kept himself occupied with his own reading which was occasionally interrupted by the odd visitor at his front door. A couple of times, Harry had moved to open the door when Snape hadn't been close by but he was always stopped and pushed back by the dour man.

Trying not to let his curiosity get the better of him, Harry remained in the sitting room or his own room, trying his hardest not to find it strange that Snape was entertaining visitors at his doorstep at almost all hours of the day. It had even happened once that someone came over in the middle of the night.

Snape had obviously been trying his hardest to give Harry his space. And while the boy appreciated that, he also wanted to talk to his new guardian. He wanted to talk about the prophecy, Sirius, the strange visitors and whatever else came to mind. So one day, at lunch, he just went for it.

"So, I've been reading," Harry noted.

Snape snorted. "That has not escaped my attention."

"Right, well anyway, I found a book about plants and spices and their meaning," Harry continued, undeterred. "It was talking about the language of flowers, you see."

"What's your point, Harry?" Snape asked, raising one eyebrow.

"I'm getting there," Harry admonished. "Don't get your knickers in a twist."

Harry chuckled as Snape huffed in response to his rather unflattering phraseology. He was doing his best to find the wording of what he was trying to say but found it hard to do so.

"Do you remember the first thing you ever asked me? In my first ever potions class?"

A spark of recognition seemed to glint in Snape's eyes but dissolved almost immediately. Harry did not relent, though.

"Because _I_ do. I have kept all my notes. Especially those on potions."

As if to demonstrate, Harry grabbed a piece of parchment he had pocketed and put it on the table in front of him. He chuckled as he tried to read his own chicken scratch. Snape remained curiously silent.

"I was so scared of you after that first lesson. I jotted down those questions _and_ their answers," Harry said. He eagerly continued rambling, prolonging what he was actually trying to say. Even when both of them knew exactly where he was headed.

"I thought that if I learned them, I could impress you the next time you asked those questions. But you never did. Not even on a test!"

Snape sat stoically. Harry, obviously nervous, did not meet his gaze at all. He was still staring at the parchment, pretending to decipher his own writing though he knew exactly what it said.

"Let's see. You asked of me: 'What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?'"

Harry chanced a peek at his potions master who sat still and neutral in the chair across from Harry, his lunch untouched. Harry refocused on the parchment.

"I guess it's kind of silly to ask this since you are the owner of the book and everything but – well – are you aware of what you were saying? Or was it all a big coincidence?"

When Snape didn't respond, Harry glanced up again, meeting Snape's gaze. A flicker of sadness was obvious in those obsidian eyes and for a moment, Harry had regretted his observation.

"Perhaps –" Snape finally said, "you are indeed more clever than I have always given you credit for."

Absentmindedly, Snape took a sip of his tea. "What do _you_ think I meant with that question?"

Harry groaned inwardly. "Well, if I'm wrong it would be absolutely mortifying for me," he said. "but something along the lines that you're sorry that my mother died."

Snape nodded slowly. "That is correct."

"Well," Harry frowned. "That was very odd of you."

"What makes you say that?" Snape asked, furrowing his brow.

"Well, what kind of eleven year old would know anything about the meaning of plants?" Harry asked shrewdly. "And what if I _had_ known? Could you imagine if I had replied to that question with 'I appreciate that, Professor. You're too kind.'"

Snape exhaled loudly. "That would have been quite startling," he admitted. "But as you pointed out, no child would know."

"Then why?" Harry asked again.

"If anything, it was probably to appease my own guilt," Snape replied. "I had tried to keep your mother safe and I failed. It is the greatest regret of my life."

Harry knew he was telling the truth. He could almost feel the grief that had suddenly overcome his guardian and felt sorry for ever bringing it up. He got up and walked around the table to stand beside Snape, awkwardly putting a hand on his shoulder in comfort.

Snape chuckled softly. "Are you honestly trying to console me for _your_ mother's death, Harry?"

"I'm sorry," Harry said. "I know it hurts."

Snape cleared his throat loudly and shooed Harry away, but not without briefly smiling at him first. "So, I've been thinking, Harry," he said, changing the subject abruptly. "I haven't even discussed your last quidditch match with you."

Harry sat back down in his own chair, eager to continue eating when he sighed deeply at Snape's statement. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Is that so?" Snape asked slyly. "You do realize I was in the stands that day, don't you?"

"I know. But you were not exactly you, were you?"

Snape huffed. "I still saw everything you did and I was quite unimpressed to not only see you perform that same dangerous stunt again but to also injure yourself after which you continued playing, putting as much strain on that injury as you possibly could."

"It wasn't that bad," Harry diminished as he waved off Snape's concern with a piece of toast.

"Any parent worth their salt would punish you for your impertinence," Snape said coldly.

"Ah!" Harry exclaimed. "But you weren't my guardian yet at that time. You weren't even on speaking terms with me. I just thought you didn't care anymore."

Snape sighed. "An understandable assessment."

"Yeah, you should seriously consider an acting career, Severus," Harry joked.

"I couldn't possibly leave all those poor students without their favourite potions professor," Snape said seriously.

Harry spat his pumpkin juice all over the table, not able to contain his laughter.

Snape just raised a singular eyebrow as he wiped the stray pumpkin juice from his cheek with a napkin. "Charming."

* * *

Harry had sent off Hedwig with a shopping list to the apothecary in Diagon Alley. He was almost done with this thesis. There were still a few minor details he needed to sort out before he could try and brew his potion but he could already order his ingredients.

Snape had told him to order large quantities because there was no way that his first attempt would be a successful one. Thankful for the tip, Harry had adjusted his shopping list last minute and watched Hedwig fly off as another owl approached.

"Pig!" Harry yelled when the owl flew through the open window, almost crashing into Harry as it tried to land. Harry eagerly relieved the bird of his letter and fed it some leftover bacon strips and water.

"Could you wait a bit?" Harry asked. "I'll see if Ron needs a reply." The owl hooted softly in reply and started grooming its feathers.

He plopped down on his bed and opened the letter eagerly.

_Hiya Harry!_

_How have you been? You're still alive, I hope? Has Snape shackled you to his dungeon wall yet?  
Well, I've been having the time of my life getting rid of garden gnomes and the sorts. That was sarcastic if you didn't pick that up. I haven't even gotten the time to get started on my homework yet. Yours is probably already finished what with a professor keeping you in check and all._

_Maybe we can get together sometime? I would love to check for real if you still have all your limbs and whatnot. Hermione's been nagging me about it as well. What do you say? You're always welcome at the burrow!_

_Cheers,  
Ron_

Harry grinned widely. Finally, his friend was asking him to meet up. He probably needed Snape's permission, though.

Hurriedly, Harry jumped down the stairs, skidding to a halt when he spotted Snape tiredly stretching his arms upwards.

"Severus!" Harry called out, alerting the man to his presence. "Ron wrote to me."

"Congratulations," Snape said dryly.

Harry blinked. "You don't want to know what he said?"

"Not particularly," Snape replied again.

"Can I go visit him in the burrow?" Harry asked expectantly.

Snape sighed and shot Harry a troubled expression. "I don't know if that is wise right now. You know how important it is for you to stay within the wards."

"I know, but –" Harry started to whine but Snape held up his hand.

"It's too dangerous," he said, his tone absolute. "But you may invite your friends to come over here," After some thinking, he added. "Two at a time at most and no sleepovers."

Harry sighed but decided not to fight Snape on this. After all, he knew he was right. A bit less enthusiastic than before, he trudged up the stairs and wrote a quick reply to Ron. After sending Pig off, he worked a bit more on the potion he was developing. He couldn't quite work out how much of the lily to use to counter the chrysanthemum. Perhaps if he added a pinch of sweet pea it might balance them out?

Harry wiped out his previous calculations and started over. He was almost there. He could feel it.

* * *

The next day at breakfast, Harry was practically ambushed by the owls that flew through the open window. Hedwig had returned flanked by three more unknown owls. The four of them wrestled with a large package the size of the box Dudley had gotten for his birthday that had contained his mountain bike.

With an indignant crash, the box was dropped on the table. Snape had removed his plate beforehand, expecting the drop but Harry's food got splattered all over his face.

"Hedwig!" he complained but the owl hooted haughtily before perching on his shoulder, nipping at the piece of sausage in his hair.

Ron's owl, Pig, had also returned but was waiting politely for the larger owls to depart again before dropping Ron's letter in Harry's lap.

"It would appear that my quiet mornings are no more," Snape grumbled as he flipped open his paper.

Harry chuckled as he quietly read Ron's response. "Can Ron and Hermione come over tomorrow?" he then asked.

Snape put down his paper, "They can if you spend the rest of the day working on your homework," he said, chiding Harry lightly, "It's been two weeks and you haven't even started."

"But Severus!" Harry whined. "My ingredients just came in! I want to get started!"

"I understand, Harry," Snape said, his eyes sparkling slightly. "But I also know that once you get started with that, it will be hard to stop. You will not get any homework done for the remainder of the summer. So I want you to finish all of your homework before you begin brewing."

Harry frowned a bit angrily, chewing his bottom lip. "You could have warned me beforehand."

"I honestly didn't expect you to be so diligent at first," Snape confessed. "But now that I see how truly earnest you are, I'd best get involved."

"Fine," Harry growled as he put away the last piece of toast before starting to head upstairs.

"Oh, and Harry," Snape called after him. "I will be checking every essay you wrote. If I find them unsatisfactory, you will start over."

Snape chuckled when another whine escaped Harry's mouth as he begrudgingly dragged himself to his room.

* * *

The fireplace flared aggressively when Ron and Hermione came through. Harry, who had been working on his charms essay in the sitting room, threw down his book unceremoniously and got up to greet them.

"Ron! Hermione!" he said happily. Hermione gave him a warm hug while Ron regarded him.

"See, Hermione," he said. "I told you he would still have all of his arms and legs."

Hermione rolled her eyes exasperatedly before glancing around the room, her eyes locking onto Harry's charms book.

"Doing your homework?" She asked in surprise. "I see that professor Snape is having a good influence on you already."

"Honestly, Hermione, is that all you can think about?" Ron chided. "I'm still reeling from the idea that everything looks so normal."

Harry chuckled, "I know! That was my first reaction as well."

"Where is Snape anyway?" Ron asked, glancing over his shoulder awkwardly as if expecting the dungeon bat to be standing right behind him.

"He's in his potions lab," Harry provided.

"Of course he would have a potions lab," Ron said, shaking his head. "Colour me surprised. So, want to go flying?"

"We can't," Harry said. "This is a muggle town. They would see."

"Snape lives in a muggle town?!" Ron said loudly. Harry shushed him sharply.

"Snape lives in a muggle town?" Ron whispered this time. "How does that even work?"

"I don't see why it wouldn't" Harry shrugged.

With a pop, Zippy entered the room with a somewhat anxious expression on her face.

"Young master Harry, sir," she squeaked. "Master Snape is needing to be very focused. He is asking you to be more quiet, okay?"

"Sorry, Zippy," Harry said sheepishly. "We'll go outside."

Zippy nodded and disappeared again.

"You have a house-elf," Ron whined. "Why does everyone have a house-elf but me?"

"_I_ don't have one," Hermione reminded him.

"No but you don't _want_ one," Ron said. "That's different."

"Let's go outside," Harry said. "Before Severus really _does_ turn one of us into potions ingredients. Though he would probably use you, Ron."

"What?" Ron protested once they got outside. "Why?"

"Because red hair is very rare," Harry shrugged. "I'm sure he could use some more. His supply has almost run out."

"You're joking," Ron said. "Hermione, tell me he's joking."

Hermione giggled as she playfully hit Harry on the shoulder. "I don't know, Ron. Harry knows more about potions than I do these days."

Ron groaned but let it go as he chased after his two friends.

"Also, you're calling him 'Severus' now?" Ron asked in disbelief.

"Ron, if you're going to insist on being surprised by everything, today is going to be very taxing for you," Harry supplied.

"Where are we going?" Hermione asked.

"I was thinking the river," Harry said.

He was secretly hoping that Alex would be there. It had been a while since he saw the man. But he was sure that Alex could keep them somewhat entertained in this muggle town.

"Did either of you get your O.W.L. results yet?" Hermione asked. "I didn't and I'm kind of worried about my transfiguration exam. I feel like my kitten was more of a ten-week-old kitten than an eight-week-old one."

"Hermione, you're going to have O's in everything!" Ron exclaimed loudly. "Everyone knows that. How are you the only one who doesn't know that?"

"Hi, Harry!" Harry was drawn away from his friends' conversation by the enthusiastic voice of Alex. "Who are your friends?"

"Remember to act muggle," Harry whispered to Ron who flushed in the process.

"Hi Alex, these are my friends, Ron and Hermione," Harry replied as he pointed at both of his friends. Hermione gave the man a polite handshake but Ron went completely rigid as he extended his own hand for Alex to shake.

"Good day my best man," he uttered awkwardly. "It is a good day to toast our bread and use that tellyphone, is it not?"

"Ron!" Hermione squeaked, hitting him in the shoulder. "Don't mind him, sir, he's an idiot."

"He's right, though," Alex chuckled. "Perfect day for toasting bread."

"How do you two know each other?" Hermione asked curiously.

"We met last summer," Harry supplied. "Alex taught me how to fish and told me stories about Severus."

"He did?" Ron asked excitedly, relaxing instantly. "Oh do tell us everything."

Alex laughed heartily as threw his line into the water once more. From the sight of his empty bucket, Harry gathered that he hadn't caught anything yet that day.

"I take it you're both students of his as well?" Alex asked happily.

"Unfortunately," Ron growled.

"How do you all get such a bad impression of the man?" Alex asked, thoroughly perplexed. "He's really quite nice."

"He doesn't really act nice to you either," Harry argued.

"Yeah but that's just his rough exterior, isn't it?" Alex replied, "You just have to learn how to poke through that."

"I guess I understand what you mean," Harry said, smiling warmly.

"Excuse _me_!" Ron said loudly, "I was promised a story!"

"Well gather round young'uns," Alex said mysteriously. "As I tell you a story about Severus and the week that I thought he had committed murder!"

"That's an awfully long title," Hermione said but she was shushed by Ron and Harry so she sat down in the damp grass next to her friends.

"So I was new in town," Alex said. "I was still young and eager to make it big in the world. Still am!" He puffed up his chest proudly.

"Everyone in this tiny part of town knew about the grumpy man that lived in the decrepit mansion in the middle of Spinner's end. He was known as the shadow because he was mostly seen when it was dark. Do you know that, to this day, some people still suspect he's a vampire?"

Ron chuckled while Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Anyway, I was completely entranced by the man. He was such a mystery! He stayed holed up in his house all day and I could never catch a glimpse until I saw him sneaking around one day."

"Typical," Ron supplied and this time Harry shushed him.

"I tried following him but Severus is damn good at sneaking. It was almost as if he knew about alleys that weren't there for mere mortals, you know? Or as if he had taken flight into the night when I wasn't looking.

"I got a tiny bit obsessed. I really believed that he was up to no good, you see. Sometimes I could see him carrying a shovel with him. Sometimes he would carry big brown bags that may or may not have contained body parts."

Harry snorted.

"So I kept following him until one day I was able to stay on his trail. Now, I'm warning you. The conclusion of this is not for the faint of heart."

Harry frowned. Ron and Hermione were holding their breath.

"This madman was – you're not going to believe this – planting flowers!"

All three teenagers groaned.

"You can't be serious!" Ron complained.

"But I am!" Alex said honestly. "All this time I thought he might have been burying a body but in reality, he was planting lilies in the front lawn of the old Evans residence. Nobody even lived there anymore. They still don't."

Harry froze. "What did you just say?"

* * *

_And that's that. I really wanted to incorporate the meaning of Snape's first question in this fic so badly! I'm glad I finally managed it._

_Kindly send a review my way if you can and let me know what you think._

**Last revised on 10/07/2020**


	35. Chapter 35

_Here we go! Another update! Thank you for your support until now. I'm so happy people still like Alex. I like him too. He's very useful for painting Snape in a different light and I really enjoy writing those stories he tells. _

_Please enjoy this next chapter!_

* * *

**Chapter 35**

"Harry, wasn't Evans your mother's maiden name?" Hermione asked.

Alex frowned and looked at Harry with some confusion. "Well, it's a common name," he offered when he sensed Harry's distress.

"She lived here," Harry stammered more to himself than anyone else. "I can't believe I never realized it. Of course she did!" Wild eyes found his friends. "Severus _told_ me that they had been friends when they were younger but it never occurred to me that she must have lived in the same neighbourhood."

Harry turned his attention back to Alex who looked at him with sympathy. "Are you alright, Harry?" he asked, not entirely understanding the situation.

"You said no one lives there anymore?" Harry asked.

"No," Alex confirmed. "The old couple that lived there died in a car crash. The way I've heard it, their daughter didn't want anything to do with the house and sold it immediately."

Alex crossed his arms thoughtfully. "But whoever bought it didn't move in. It's remained empty to this day."

"Harry," Ron said quietly but stopped when he didn't know what else to say.

"I don't mean to pry –" Alex said gently, "but I think I'm missing something here."

"My parents died when I was a baby," Harry supplied. "And my aunt and uncle never really told me anything about them."

"Why not?" Alex frowned. "Oh, hold on, were they the people who showed up here? The ones who –"

"Yes," Harry interrupted him. "That was them. And they never told me anything because they hated my parents.

"Well that's not right," Alex said, shaking his head. "What say you we break into that old house? Maybe you can still find something."

Harry's face lit up. "Yeah! I would like that."

"It is a slow day, anyway," Alex sighed. He packed up his stuff and started walking, motioning for the teenagers to follow him.

"Blimey, Harry," Ron said as he shuffled after him. "Who knew that Snape and your mum knew each other."

"It's only natural since they lived near each other," Hermione said. "Especially since they both turned out to be –" she lowered her voice to a whisper, "magical."

"I'm really sorry, Harry," Alex said. "If I had known, I wouldn't have said anything. I would have told you about the time the neighbourhood children tried breaking into Severus' house or something."

"They what?" Ron exclaimed in horror. "Are they still alive?"

Alex laughed heartily at the seriousness in Ron's voice. "Some are still missing but none have turned up dead," he replied happily. Ron's eyes widened as he tried to determine if what Alex said was a joke or not.

Harry chuckled at his friend's unease but focused his attention on Alex.

"Don't worry about it, Alex. I'm happy you told me," he said honestly. "It's not really earth-shattering news anyway. I just never considered the possibility." Silently he wondered why Snape never bothered to tell him. If not the previous year than why not this year? They had been here for a few weeks already.

When Alex reached a bridge to cross the river, Harry froze in his tracks, groaning in annoyance.

"What is it?" Alex asked.

"I can't go any further than this," Harry huffed. "I'm not allowed." He sent his friends a pointed look, wanting them to understand that the wards ended here.

"Don't worry, Harry!" Alex said. "You've got a responsible adult with you, after all." With an exaggerated gesture, he pointed to himself with his thumb, grinning from ear to ear.

"I somehow doubt that Severus would see it that way," Harry chuckled.

"If he finds out, I'll take the blame," Alex said, winking mischievously.

"I really don't think that's a good idea, sir," Hermione said. "It's dangerous for Harry to go too far."

Harry shot his friend a nasty look.

"Oh," Alex said in understanding. "Because of your aunt and uncle."

Harry sighed exasperatedly at that statement, trying to ignore the confused stares his friends were giving him. He didn't know what to do. Should he go with Alex and find out what he could whilst endangering himself or should he stay put and trust Snape to enlighten him later on?

If nothing else, it was the knowledge that getting himself caught would ultimately lead to Snape's death as well that finally stopped him from crossing that bridge.

"Some other time," he mumbled as he turned around and moved farther away from that edge.

"If you say so, Harry," Alex shrugged.

"So, Mr Alex, sir," Ron said sheepishly. "About that breaking into Snape's house story."

"Oh, surely you must be bored hearing about that man by now," Alex said. "don't you want to know about the exciting adventures _I've_ had?"

Ron groaned impolitely. "No, not really."

Alex gasped in shock, "Well how dare you, my young friend," he said in mock disbelief. "I'll have you know that I've – well," He sheepishly scratched the back of his neck, "Perhaps I didn't really do anything of interest yet. But you'll see! One day I will."

"So about Snape," Ron urged again.

"Oh alright, if you _must_ know," Alex shrugged. The excited gleams on the teenagers' faces told him that they indeed needed to know and he grinned broadly.

"Well, it was the night of Halloween," he started, lowering his voice and crouching slightly as he moved. "As you can imagine, the streets were filled with children dressed as monsters of all kind, going trick or treating from door to door. But there was one door the children did not dare get close to. If you can believe it, that was Severus' door."

"No!" Ron said in mock disbelief. "I can't imagine why that is."

Alex chuckled. "Indeed. But the problem was that some of the older kids were seeing it as a challenge. A test of courage, if you will. If I recall correctly, they challenged each other to get in there and swipe something from our lovely friend as proof."

"What did they get if they succeeded?" Hermione asked curiously.

"I don't think they got anything," Alex said. "Nothing but a sense of accomplishment I would wager. So, anyway, they would try to get in but it was apparently very hard to do so. Many children claimed that they even saw two huge yellow eyes look at them when they tried to come close."

"Can't imagine what that would be," Harry chuckled. Alex shot him a curious glance but Harry just shrugged.

"Some children eventually managed to get in there. Apparently, there was some sort of secret passage that ran underground. It spawned somewhere in the underbrush. Well, that's what the legends say but that passage hasn't been found by any kids since.

The kids that _did_ get in said that the house was terrifying. It was almost as if it was haunted. I personally think that Severus secretly likes Halloween and decorates his house accordingly. Do you imagine he sits there enjoying the decorations by himself? Maybe he'll watch some spooky movies, eat some popcorn. Maybe he basically sets up a haunted house hoping that someone will try to venture inside?

Whatever the case, the children saw cauldrons with strange, glowing concoctions inside, ladles stirring the insides by themselves, all in different patterns. One of the kids wanted to have a taste of what was inside but was thrown out of the room when he tried to. However Snape has managed that, it probably cost him a fortune!

Legend dictates that there were messages in blood on the walls. Things like 'Your bones will be thrown to my hellhound' and 'The eternal night cannot be escaped'. There must have been spiders and snakes everywhere. That's what the children said at least."

Alex took a deep breath and started to whisper the next part dangerously. "Now I know that this next part seems made up. But every single child that was in there that night tells me the same."

"What?" Ron urged breathlessly.

Alex smirked. "When the clock struck twelve, the fire in the hearth was suddenly set ablaze. Its flames not red in colour but an eerie green. The children had barely blinked when a tall, dark figure appeared in the fireplace as if he had been some sort of Kris Kringle from hell."

Harry and Hermione snickered but Ron, who had never been introduced to Santa Claus, listened intently to Alex' dark story.

"An intense fire burned in the man's dark gaze and when the children stared into those unforgiving eyes, they were met with their own fears and doubts. They could see the horrors that have befallen mankind since the dawn of time and the agony that will continue to befall us until the very end!"

Ron shuddered violently. He knew all too well what staring into those obsidian eyes could feel like.

"The figure spoke with a commanding voice: 'You have trespassed into the home of the forlorn and forgotten. This crime will never be forgiven. You and yours will be cursed until the end of time to try and find redemption which you will never receive.' Or you know, something like that." Alex shrugged.

"He took two of the smallest children and shackled them in his dungeon. Some say he wanted to experiment on them. Others say that he wanted to fatten them up and eat them. I suppose if he were really a vampire that he could use the blood supply."

"Wouldn't it be easier to just use an animal of sorts?" Harry offered.

"Maybe he's a bit of an elitist," Alex said. "Nothing but human blood for those who would call themselves _true_ vampires, right?"

"Makes sense," Hermione shrugged.

"I really don't think there's a dungeon, though," Harry speculated. "Unless there's a hatch in his potions lab. I haven't actually been down there yet." Harry's eyes widened when he realized that he misspoke but Alex chuckled, still buying into the skit they were improvising.

"You're kidding about the two kids though," Ron said softly. "Right?"

"Honestly, Ron," Hermione sighed. "I would expect that at least half of that story was made up."

"Hey!" Alex exclaimed. "I resent that. I didn't make anything up though I might've embellished one or two things. That's how you keep things interesting."

"It's clear that you don't really like him either," Ron chuckled.

"Are you kidding?" Alex replied. "I am rather fond of Severus, actually."

Alex chuckled when Ron started making gagging noises.

"I know what he seems like," he said fondly. "But he's very reliable. He's a man you can count on. And for that, I'll courageously brave the occasional sneer."

Ron rolled his eyes dramatically. "I don't think I'd be able to count on him for anything, really," he said, "Not even for a decent grade."

"Well-" Harry countered. "It's true that he's helped us – me especially – a lot over the years. Just think."

"Well, yeah, I guess he's saved your life a couple of times," Ron begrudgingly admitted.

"He did?" Alex asked, his eyes wide in disbelief. "What kind of crazy school do you go to?"

"Oh, you know," Harry shrugged. "Military school."

"All three of you?" Alex asked incredulously? His eyes roamed over the small frames of both Harry and Hermione. "Come on, you don't expect me to believe that do you?"

"I just find myself in trouble all the time," Harry shrugged.

"Come on, not even a little hint?" Alex tried.

"Oh you know, werewolves, trolls, that sort of thing," Harry grinned when Ron and Hermione gasped.

"Fine, don't tell me," Alex said sharply. "And I won't tell you about Severus' secret admirer."

"What?!" Ron yelled. "But you have to!"

"And yet, I really don't," Alex said snidely.

"Harry, say something," Ron begged but Harry just shrugged.

"I doubt he would be telling the truth, Ron," Harry said. "It's time to get back anyway."

"Give Severus my regards, Harry," Alex said. "And I'll see you around soon, yeah? There's really no need for you to stay cooped up in that house."

"Sure, Alex," Harry said, waving as he was already stepping away from the blonde.

"Well he's very nice," Hermione giggled when they were out of earshot. "I think that secret admirer he was talking about is probably him."

"He's made my staying here a lot less boring, that's for sure," Harry said. "And he's not afraid of Snape at all. No matter how much he sneers or scowls at him."

"An impressive feat indeed," Ron said in admiration.

"Excuse me. Are you the boy that lives with Mr Snape?" The golden trio turned around to face an elderly lady with a smile as crooked as her back. She was walking by means of a cane and held a bag in her free hand.

"Yes ma'am," Harry said suspiciously. "Can I help you with something?"

"Oh, so polite," the woman cooed. "And yes, you can," She held out the bag towards Harry. "Could you take these to Mr Snape? It's strawberries from my own garden."

Harry peered inside the bag and indeed saw some nice big strawberries, ready for eating.

"I'm sorry but I don't have any money on me right now," Harry confessed.

"Oh heavens, no!" The little old lady protested. "There's no need. Please just give him those with my regards."

"I confess that I don't know your name," Harry said sheepishly. Had he ever met her?

"Nor I yours," The little old lady replied. "But that is of no consequence. He'll know."

"Okay," Harry said, frowning in confusion. "I will get them to him. Thank you very much."

The old lady nodded and walked away albeit very slowly.

"Did that seem a little odd to you?" Harry asked as they resumed their walk.

"Very suspicious, I would say," Ron said.

"I think she just wanted to be nice," Hermione said. "But I'm sure that Professor Snape will be able to check the strawberries for poison or hexes or something if you're not sure."

Harry had been holding the bag at arm's length as if it could explode at any moment, "Yeah. I guess."

* * *

When the three friends stormed back inside the house, laughing like a pack of hyena's, Snape was still nowhere to be found. Harry set the bag down in the kitchen and plopped down onto a couch in the sitting room. Hermione followed his example but Ron stood somewhat apprehensively in the doorway.

"Problem?" Harry asked.

"Are you sure this is safe, Harry?" Ron asked doubtfully.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Stop being such a prat and sit down. I've been here for weeks already. Nothing's boobytrapped."

"Fine," Ron said. He tentatively took a seat and allowed himself to relax into the cushions when he was sure that the chair would not explode.

"So what have you been up to, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, I can't imagine you doing anything fun around here," Ron said. "You can't even fly what with all the muggles prancing around."

"I've been trying to develop a new potion," Harry replied honestly.

This solicited a screech of delight from Hermione. "You are? That is fascinating, Harry!" she said. "Oh, how amazing it must be to develop new potions under the careful scrutiny and attention of a potions master. Do tell me all about it!"

"I have only been working on the theory for now," Harry admitted. "But I will be able to start brewing soon."

Ron made a rude noise. "Really Harry? Potions again?" He asked. "I don't know what that greasy git's been doing to you but he's clearly rubbing off on you. If you're not careful, you might turn into a bat at night."

Harry didn't reply. He just stared at Ron, his expression a combination of horror and amusement.

"If I were indeed an Animagus, I would imagine myself to be a snake rather than a bat," An icy voice suddenly spoke from behind Ron. "And on that note, if you were to be bitten by a poisonous snake, no one would ever doubt it was anything more than an accident."

Ron yelped loudly and jumped almost three feet into the air. Hermione watched in horror but Harry couldn't suppress a chuckle.

"I'm sorry, sir," Ron said in a tiny voice, trying his best to cower away from the looming presence of his potions professor.

"I doubt you are, Mr Weasley," Snape snarled. "You are merely sorry you got caught."

He then turned his attention to the room and asked menacingly. "Ready for lunch?"

"Yup!" Harry said as he bolted from the couch and hurriedly followed Snape into the dining room. He laughed heartily at the thought of leaving his friends in utter bewilderment. It was fun to tease them with Snape's rugged exterior to which he had already grown accustomed. In time, so would his friends.

By the time he was done plating his food, Ron and Hermione sheepishly walked into the dining room themselves.

"Mr Weasley, Ms Granger, please do have a seat," Snape offered kindly.

"Wow, this looks great," Hermione commented. "Thank you, sir."

"It is my pleasure, Ms Granger," Snape replied politely. "How is your homework coming along?"

"All done, sir," Hermione said proudly. "But I must admit that I am quite jealous of Harry's side project." she sighed longingly. "I wish _I_ could try to create my very own potion."

"Should you really wish to do so, you can work on the theoretical part of your potion over the summer," Snape offered. "Show me your work when school starts and I would be happy to help you with your creation if I deem it likely to work."

Harry grinned when he saw the expression of pure happiness creep onto Hermione's face.

"Thank you, Professor!" she said, smiling from ear to ear.

Ron just sat there, his mouth wide open in shock.

"What about you, Mr Weasley?" Snape continued as he casually buttered his toast. "Do you have any such aspirations yourself or would you rather not be in the greasy git's vicinity for longer than strictly necessary?"

Ron shrunk in his seat but Snape just bit into his toast in a most dainty fashion as he watched the boy squirm. He smirked at the delightful feeling of instilling fear in his students.

"Stop teasing," Harry came to the rescue of his best friend.

"Very well," Snape conceded. "So what have you been up to, today?"

"We met Mr Alex," Hermione replied.

"Oh?" Snape said, raising a suspicious eyebrow. "And did Alexander prove to be entertaining?"

Ron snorted as he tried to suppress his laughter but quickly looked away when Snape frowned at him.

"He's a great storyteller," Harry shrugged. "And he has lots of stories about a certain Professor who lives in this very house."

"You don't say," Snape growled as he narrowed his gaze, fixing Harry with a pointed stare. "And what – pray tell – did he have to say."

"Oh _this_ time he told us about you scaring a bunch of kids at Halloween," Harry said. "apparently you still have two of them locked up in your dungeon. No doubt for their blood."

"Too true," Snape replied, sipping his tea. "Too bad they will be too old too soon. I suppose I'll have to lure some new, unsuspecting children into my house." Snape glanced over at Ron with a particularly nasty smirk and was pleased when he heard the redhead whimper.

Hermione sighed exasperatedly. "Oh cut it out, Ronald. He's obviously kidding."

"He also told us about something that happened a long time ago," Harry continued, undeterred by Snape teasing Ron. "Something about you going out to er… plant flowers at my mother's childhood home."

"Did he now?" Snape said coldly. There was no more amusement obvious in his voice. He turned to Ron and Hermione. "If you don't mind, Mr Weasley, Ms Granger, I would like to speak to Harry in private. If you would kindly vacate my house, for the time being, I would be most appreciative. You will be welcome again in the future."

"But –" Harry tried to protest but Snape raised his hand to stop him. Fearful of his potions Professor, Ron didn't think twice about leaving and all but dragged Hermione to come with him. She stopped long enough to utter a 'Thank you for having us' before Ron pulled her into the fireplace with him and called out 'The burrow'.

"Well that probably scared them off for good," Harry said in annoyance. He whirled around to face Snape, ready to start a full-blown tirade but was stopped by the immeasurable sadness that glistened in Snape's eyes.

"Sir?" Was all he could utter.

Snape quickly recovered and steeled his expression but his voice still had a slight tremble to it. "I'm sorry that Alexander told you about Lily's home, Harry," he said. "It should have been me but I hadn't been able to bring myself to telling you just yet. I thought the chances of you finding out by yourself to be very slim."

"Well, Alex _is_ a blabbermouth," Harry shrugged.

"I didn't even realize that anyone had spotted me," Snape admitted. "Nor would I have imagined for a happening of such little significance to be at the forefront of someone's memories."

"Well, he did initially think you killed someone," Harry explained.

"Ah," Snape said. "That might explain the significance in Alexanders mind."

"Was it after –" Harry hesitated, "you-know-what?"

Snape sighed deeply. "Yes. It was after Lily was murdered by the Dark Lord," Snape admitted. "I was heartbroken. She had been my best friend, after all. Even though we had grown apart, I still cared for her deeply."

Snape sat back down and poured himself a glass of fire whiskey. He took a large gulp before saying anything more, "I was grieving but wasn't particularly welcome at her funeral. Especially because I had only just recently switched sides at that time and hadn't earned anyone's trust just yet. I come across as not having a heart but I needed a way to cope for myself. That's why I planted a batch of lilies in the garden charming them so they would be ever-growing."

Snape stared hard into his now empty glass. "I still go there occasionally. It's silly really. Lily grew up there but she hadn't lived there in a long time."

Harry smiled softly. "You really did care for her," he said carefully. "I can't help but wonder if you loved her, even."

The look in Snape's eyes when he spoke those words was so foreign that Harry was taken completely by surprise. He looked away, ashamed of himself to dredge up the past like that, causing nothing but pain.

"I did," Snape finally replied. "And I still do. I always will."

The hurt in Snape's voice was so obvious that Harry didn't want to press the matter further. The fact that the man had confessed those lingering emotions to him already meant a great deal to Harry. How did they go from being arch enemies to completely trusting each other like this?

After a while, he broke the silence, unable to bear it anymore. "Alex said that Aunt Petunia sold the house. He didn't know who bought it, though."

"I did," Snape replied.

Harry looked at him in complete shock. "But why?"

Snape gave an uncharacteristic shrug. "I didn't want to lose the last part of Lily that I had."

"Could we go see it sometime?" Harry asked hopefully. "Alex offered to take me there earlier but it wasn't inside of the wards."

"I'm glad that I can trust you to not venture too far, Harry," Snape said. "And yes. I suppose it wouldn't be fair of me to keep that house from you."

Snape put his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, his empty glass dangling loosely in his hand. "I will need to widen the range of my wards to do so. Please hold off for a week or so. Agreed?"

"Yes!" Harry said, suddenly very excited. "Agreed. Oh right, Professor -" he suddenly remembered. "Some old lady gave me a bag to give to you."

Harry took the bag from the kitchen and held it out to Snape.

"So someone you have never met hands you a bag and you think it wise to just accept it?" Snape asked incredulously. "Do you have no self-preservation?"

"How many times are you going to ask me that?" Harry asked exasperatedly. "She was harmless. And these are just strawberries."

A hint of recognition flickered in Snape's eyes as he took the bag and peered inside. He sighed deeply. "You shouldn't have accepted the bag, Harry," he said before taking a large, ripe strawberry and eating it whole.

"They're good, though."

* * *

_Sheesh, where is all the angst, am I right? I have some nasty stuff planned but I just can't seem to get there. Well, I hope you're liking these fluff chapters just as much. Don't worry, something exciting will happen soon._

_Please review and tell me all of your suspicions! I also value your opinions. So if you have the time, please share them._

**Last revised on 11/07/2020**


	36. Chapter 36

_Thank you all kindly for your reviews. Please enjoy the next chapter._

* * *

**Chapter 36**

Harry was unpacking his large box of potions ingredients, cataloguing everything he had diligently. Snape watched him with great interest as he sipped his coffee.

"Phoenix feathers?" He noted. " A pricy ingredient for sure. As are those unicorn manes."

"I'm well aware," Harry grimaced. "But it will all be worth it."

Snape picked up a stray horn that had rolled to the edge of the table. "A hodag horn. Interesting. Oh and Ironbelly scales!"

Harry couldn't help but laugh. Snape was almost like a kid in a candy store.

"These are valuable ingredients, Severus, not toys," Harry admonished but was unable to finish the sentence with a straight face.

Snape ignored him completely. He had set aside his cup of coffee and was now full-on rummaging through the box, completely disrupting Harry's careful cataloguing.

"Goodness, you've also purchased augury feathers," Snape said quietly. "You _do_ realize those don't mix well with phoenix feathers, right?" Snape gave Harry a stare that clearly said '_Are you sure you know what you're doing_'.

"Well, the potion I want to create will only work in some form of duality,' Harry explained. "I can't get it to work without a cost so to speak so I need to brew a second potion as a counter to the first."

"Marvellous," Snape said, getting back to perusing the ingredients. "Is that why you have wormwood as well as lilies?" he further enquired. "Oh, hold on, this is a very strange kind of bezoar."

Harry shook his head in dismay. "Severus, please. I'm trying to get started here."

Snape was still inspecting the bezoar that – unbeknownst to him – came from a chimaera's belly instead of a goat's when he was distracted by Harry's protests.

"Surely you understand my need to make sure you won't blow up my house," Snape said flatly. "Some of these ingredients would not mix well together."

"And I know that," Harry said whilst he pried the bezoar from Snape's long fingers. "I learned from the best, remember?"

Snape fixed him with a suspicious glare, not at all taken aback by the compliment. "I have given you free rein in this, because I am aware of the pleasure that comes from creating something by yourself, without outside help," he said coldly. "And while I confess to being most curious as to what you are creating, I also believe that I should at least be present in the event that something bad would happen."

"You just want to snoop," Harry accused with a grin. "But I don't know. I'm not gonna get it right straight away. It'll be an embarrassing ordeal for you to be looking over my shoulder."

"At least allow me to read your theorem beforehand," Snape argued.

"No can do," Harry shook his head. "I need it myself while I work. You know how it goes."

"I do," Snape acquiesced. "In that case, I expect you to promise me that you will call me immediately should anything go wrong. And don't test the final product without me present."

"I promise," Harry sighed. "Can I go now?"

With one last curious glance at the bezoar in Harry's hand, Snape dismissed him. "Go right ahead. I will start working on those wards. Try not to burn the house down while I'm gone."

"I'll do my very best," Harry promised and Snape hesitantly left.

Harry eagerly descended into the previously forbidden potion's lab as he struggled with the heavy box of ingredients. Carefully, he put the box down on the counter and looked around. This lab was at least three times the size of the potions classroom with about 30 cauldrons of all kinds of sizes and materials carefully placed along the walls as if carefully measured to fit just right.

There were grates built into the floor onto which one might place their cauldrons in order for it to be exposed to fire. The walls were lined from top to bottom with not only more potions books of which Harry hadn't even known the existence but also ingredients and already bottled potions. Empty vials stood at the ready, waiting to be filled and the whole room was bathed in a pleasant yellow light that seemed to come from a permanent Lumos spell that was stuck to the ceiling.

It was a brewer's paradise.

Harry had purchased just the right cauldrons and stirrers for this experiment. One set in gold and one set in Elysium. They had been very pricy but necessary. At least, Harry thought it was.

And so Harry got started. It was difficult and especially so because he essentially needed to make two potions at the same time, tossing opposites of each component in the cauldrons at carefully timed intervals. He felt as if he either needed to train his left hand to be equally skilled as his right or allow Snape to stir one of his cauldrons for him.

He wasn't ready to tell Snape what he was brewing just yet, though. The main reason for that was that he didn't believe Snape would condone the creation of a potion such as this. Even if, in the end, it might even be used for Snape's own good.

Harry sighed. He wouldn't allow more people to die on his behalf. He couldn't.

Simultaneously tossing the phoenix feather into the gold cauldron and the augury feather into the Elysium cauldron, Harry breathed a deep sigh. This had to work.

* * *

Snape walked casually along the river whilst holding his wand tucked into his sleeve. He appeared relaxed but was alert. As Moody would say, constant vigilance was required. Especially now that his ploy had been discovered.

A clumsy sort of rustling behind him alerted him to the presence of someone else. But he knew that it could only be one of the muggles. No death eater was clumsy enough to make their appearance known beforehand.

"Hiya, Sev!" Came an annoyingly familiar voice. "Fancy seeing you out and about."

"Alexander," Snape greeted, not even turning around to look at the man. Instead, he raised his hand and weaved it through the air whilst crossing a bridge.

Alexander went to stand next to him, leaning back against the bridge's railings, with his elbows on top for support. He flashed a brilliant smile at Snape that went totally unnoticed.

"I am doing absolutely superb, thanks for asking," Alex said happily. "And how are you?"

Snape ignored him and was muttering to himself. He wasn't about to lose his focus because of one meddling muggle.

"Good to hear it," Alex said in response to the non-reply. "You getting along well enough with Harry?"

Snape exhaled loudly before getting off the bridge and moving a few feet further away again. Alex casually walked up to him.

"He seems to be starting to see you in a new light," Alex said. "His friends aren't really on board yet, though."

"Was there something you wanted, Alexander?" Snape asked exasperatedly. "Or is your sole mission of the day to follow me around?"

"What? That doesn't sound like me," Alex chuckled. "But I honestly just saw you and decided to be friendly."

"Your impulses are often comparable to those of a dog," Snape drawled.

"Thanks!" Alex said, beaming brightly. "I love dogs."

"I believe we are finished exchanging pleasantries," Snape said matter-of-factly.

"Don't you want company on your rather strange walk?" Alex asked as he watched Snape move his hand in the air as if he were trying to wave awkwardly to Mrs Benson who was eying them from her third-floor window.

"I have no need nor the desire for your company," Snape replied. Why was he still indulging this muggle anyway?

"Ouch," Alex said dejectedly. "And here I thought we were friends."

Snape snapped his head to look at Alex, frowning deeply. "Surely, you jest."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Oh come on, Sev, we've known each other for years! This is our dynamic. I talk, you ignore me, I talk some more and eventually, we actually have a conversation."

He put a hand on Snape's shoulder, earning himself a ferocious glare that he just shrugged away.

"Face it, Sevvie, we are _best_ friends."

"Surely, you have more agreeable company you could seek out," Snape deflected. He moved his hand to push Alex' hand from his shoulder as if it were a filthy insect. "I have no time for friends."

"And yet you let one of your students worm his way into your heart," Alex teased, not dejected in the slightest.

"How apt of you to compare the boy to a parasite," Snape said. He squatted down near a willow tree and weaved the wards around its trunk.

"Parasite or not, you love him," Alex said.

Snape snorted. "I can guarantee you that it hasn't quite come to that just yet."

"Just yet, huh?" Alex retorted. "The shadow has a heart! Who knew?"

"Alex-" Snape sighed.

"I know, I know," Alex interrupted. "Get lost or die."

"Precisely," Snape agreed.

"Just one more thing, Severus," Alex said, suddenly sounding much more serious than the man usually was. It caused Snape to halt his movements for a moment.

"Harry really seems upset about losing his mother," he divulged. "And he wanted to check out her old house but couldn't because it stood outside of whatever imaginary barrier you gave him. But I think it would really do him good to see it."

"I'll be taking him soon," Snape said. "You needn't worry yourself."

Snape then fixed Alex with a pointed glare. "I would also ask of you to not fabricate ridiculous stories of preposterously embellished events pertaining to my person anymore."

Alex chuckled. "What does that even mean?"

"It means –" Snape began.

"I was just teasing, Severus," Alex interrupted again, relishing in the annoyance it caused Snape. "But I'm not making any promises. You're about the only interesting thing we have in this town."

Snape just grunted and turned away from the hideously cheerful blond as he shouted his farewells. In the distance, Snape could see Lily's childhood home. It was left untouched since he bought it. The lilies he planted all those years ago were in bloom once more.

* * *

Harry threw down his dragonhide gloves in frustration. Why did this keep happening? The concoction in the Elysium cauldron was a dark blue as Harry had expected but the one in the Gold cauldron kept turning into mud. Angrily, he scratched off a sentence on his theorem – one he had written down as a replacement for another sentence he scratched off – and brought the quill to his lips, thinking about what was going wrong.

He needed some sort of catalyst, he thought. Something to keep hold of 'life' without disregarding its core.

Frustrated, Harry ran his hands through his hair, messing it up even more than it already had been and called it quits. He vanished the potions in both cauldrons, gathered his parchments and made his way up the steps again, hanging his head in defeat.

"Unsuccessful day?" Snape asked when Harry came up from the potions lab.

Harry nodded grumpily.

"Well, I would have been surprised if you had managed already," Snape said. "No potion that is worth brewing has been invented overnight. Just apply yourself, and you will make it work."

"If you say so, sir," Harry shrugged. "Have you made any progress with the wards?"

"I have," Snape said. "I'm not quite there yet, but I think we can make it there if you give me another day or three. Does that sound agreeable to you?"

"Yes," Harry replied. "Thank you for the effort."

"Yes well, if it will help you stop your moping, I will gladly assist you," Snape said. "Now go work on some of that homework of yours. Tomorrow you can try again with newfound courage."

"Okay," Harry said agreeably before heading upstairs to his room.

Snape smiled a bit as he watched the boy go. He remembered his first try at brewing a new potion. It had had disastrous results. All aspiring Potion Masters had to go through that sensation at some point. At least his house was still standing.

* * *

Over the next few days, Harry's frustration grew. He kept botching the light side of the potion which was arguably the most important one but effectively equally important as the dark one. He could not get it to steer away from becoming murky and muddy no matter what he did to it.

He tried different ingredients as well as different preparations of said ingredients. He even tried to cast some spells seeing how many potions did require a spell or two to reach completion. But alas, nothing worked.

Snape didn't seem to have lost faith at all while Harry was all but ready to throw in the towel. The only thing stopping him from doing so was the regret he knew he would feel later on. At some point in his life, he would wish that he had made this potion and there would be nothing he could do about it anymore.

No, he would see this through. He just needed a little break to clear his head. Thankfully for Harry, Snape was done with the wards.

"Are you ready for this, Harry?" He asked on the faithful day.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Harry replied. He wasn't sure how he felt. He was anxious but also excited. He was sad when faced with his mother's death but also happy that he might find out more about her life.

As they walked to the Evans' home together, Harry glanced at Snape a couple of times to notice that the sallow man was wrought with trepidation himself and couldn't help but wonder if this was too much for him.

"If you would rather see me go alone, I would be okay with that," Harry said.

Without looking at the boy, Snape just shook his head. "I think it's time for me to face my past," Snape said quietly. "In order for me to shape my future."

Harry didn't know what to say to that so he just stayed quiet.

It didn't take long for the two wizards to reach Lily's house. It had indeed been in walking distance from Snape's house. Harry felt a pang of envy towards Snape for that but buried it inside himself as soon as he noticed. Snape was clearly suffering as well. He wouldn't have known that agony if he hadn't met his mother.

Mulling this over in his head, he hardly noticed it when they both stopped walking to come to a stop in front of a light blue door. The paint was peeling and there were cracks in the wood but the house seemed to be inviting them in nonetheless. Snape produced a key from his pocket and opened the door.

The first thing that Harry noticed was the smell. It was musty and somewhat sweet but not overwhelmingly so. The first thing Snape did when he walked inside was open a few windows.

"Have you ever been inside here?" Harry asked. "I mean when you were young."

"Once or twice," Snape admitted. "But we usually met each other outside."

Harry glanced around quietly. When he found a couple of picture frames, he wiped the dust off of them with his sleeve only to look into those emerald green eyes as they looked back at him from within a little girl with red hair. She was flanked by two adults who were probably her parents. On the man's shoulders sat a second girl with black hair that was tied in a braid. She too looked happy which made it hard for Harry to believe that this particular girl was probably his aunt Petunia.

Snape seemed interested in other things. Quietly he stalked over to an old piano that sat in the far right corner of the sitting room and hit a few keys with his long slender fingers. The notes sounded buzzy and twangy as if the instrument desperately needed tuning. Snape stared at it for a few seconds more before walking up to a desk, seemingly lost in his memories.

Harry sneakily took the picture with him before looking around some more. While Snape was reminiscing on his own in what seemed to be the dining room, Harry went up the stairs. He was eager to see his mother's bedroom.

He opened a few doors upstairs before finding what he was looking for. The bedroom of a young adult who clearly attended Hogwarts. A Gryffindor pennant was hung against the wall and old editions of recognisable books littered a mahogany desk sitting near the window as if ready to be used for another essay.

Harry opened the desk drawers carefully as to not upset anything inside and smiled when he found a bundle of parchment filled with doodles. Lily Evans had been an artist. The drawings were accompanied by pictures of all sorts of things. Landscapes, animals, her family and even Snape. Harry chuckled lightly at seeing the younger version of his new guardian. The pictures were muggle ones, though, and unmoving.

Harry glanced over his shoulder, half expecting for Snape to be leaning against the doorpost. When Harry didn't find him there, he continued his search.

He opened the second drawer and found a bunch of expired potions ingredients. None could be used anymore. What he also found were some potion recipes he hadn't ever seen before. And he had read his fair share of books by now. He frowned as he looked them over and was slightly pleased to notice that Lily's penmanship left much to be desired just like Harry's. No doubt the result of being raised by muggles who had never even seen a quill let alone used one.

He gingerly put the recipes on top of the desk, deciding to take them home with him later and glanced at the nightstand. On top of it stood what seemed to be a music box. Carefully setting himself down on the made bed, Harry gently took hold of the music box and looked it over. It had a late Victorian feel to it with flowers painted on every side of the box. Harry smiled when he recognised them as lilies.

He carefully wound up the box and watched as it opened to reveal a little fairy, dancing to the music of Clair de Lune. The fairy almost seemed real and shone with brilliance as if it were brand new. Harry knew for sure that it was magical. He leaned back against the wall as he listened to the gentle plucking of the strings inside the box. The melody still sounded pure and unharmed by time.

When the song was finished, the fairy winked at him and retreated inside the box. Harry smiled, staring at it for a long time.

"I gave that to her for her fourteenth birthday," Snape said suddenly. Harry looked up sharply to find Snape standing in the doorway for real this time. His wounded expression saddened Harry deeply and he diverted his attention to the box again.

"It's a very nice gift," Harry admitted. "Did you charm it yourself?"

"Yes," Snape said. "Charms wasn't exactly my strong suit, so it took me a lot of tutoring and help to finally get it right."

"It's beautiful," Harry breathed. "Mum must have really loved it."

"What's this?" Snape asked as he grabbed the recipes that now lay neatly on the desk.

"I'm not sure," Harry said. "I haven't seen any of those recipes in any books I've read."

"Nor have I," Snape confessed. "They seem to be recipes of Lily's own invention, albeit incomplete."

He leafed through the different pages with interest, his eyes darting across the chicken scratch.

"Would it be alright if I kept this, Professor?" Harry asked. Snape looked over at the boy who was holding the music box as if it was the most valuable item in the world. Even more so than his wand perhaps.

"Of course it would, Harry," Snape replied. "It's part of your inheritance, is it not? It's not my place to keep it from you."

"Thanks," Harry whispered softly. He wrapped the box gingerly in a piece of cloth he found and put it in his pocket.

He wanted to walk over to the wardrobe to check out its innards when he heard the all too familiar creaking of a loose floorboard. Could it be? Did his mum have a secret compartment in her room just like Harry had? Harry got on his knees, ignoring Snape as the man sniffed at the expired potion ingredients and identified the faulty board.

It took a bit of prying but eventually, he managed to reveal what indeed was a secret compartment. The insides seemed a bit disappointing at first – There wasn't really too much in there except for paper – but when Harry started to read what was on the bits of parchment, he discovered a whole new side to his mother. The side that had been friends with Snape.

"Why are you breaking open the floor?" Snape admonished but he froze when he saw the bounty Harry had revealed.

Harry ignored him and read a letter that had come from Snape.

_Lily,_

_I'm sorry to hear you've become sick. You probably shouldn't have joined me in the rain earlier this week and I'm sorry for dragging you outside._

_I hope you'll feel better soon. My mother helped me to make you a potion that will help.  
Please take it. I promise it's not poison._

_Severus._

Harry chuckled before glancing upward to meet Snape's waiting gaze.

"It's letters," he explained. He handed Snape the one he just read and watched his eyes become softer.

"My cat had gone missing," Snape supplied while Harry was gathering even more letters. "And my father had tasked me with finding her. Lily had seen me outside in the rain and volunteered to help." Snape chuckled. It was a foreign sound when it came from the man but it actually suited him.

"In the end, she's the one who found the cat. But she had taken ill because of it."

"What potion did you make?" Harry asked.

"Pepper-up obviously," Snape replied. "What else?"

Harry didn't respond. He was already smiling as he read another one.

_Dear Lily,_

_I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. Because of you, I managed to pass my charms exams, if you will believe it. It would have been entirely impossible if it hadn't been for your tutoring sessions._

_If you would be agreeable, I would like to take you for afternoon tea in London to express my gratitude._

_Yours,  
Severus_

"Bad at charms, were you?" Harry teased.

"Dreadfully so," Snape admitted. "Almost as bad as you were at potions some years ago."

"Did she go with you to London?" Harry asked, ignoring the insult.

"She did. And we had a very nice time together," Snape said, smiling softly. "I'm not sure if I like you perusing through any more of these letters though."

"Why not?" Harry asked. He clutched the letters to his chest in a protective manner.

"Because they seem to be rather private," Snape replied evenly. "And they all seem to be written by me. I'd rather you stayed clear of that part of my life."

"You looked into my memories as well," Harry argued. "This is just a less invasive way of doing so."

"Harry, please," Snape said. His voice was not commanding nor strict. But there was a certain twinge of sorrow in it that got Harry to hand over the letters.

"Fine," he sighed in defeat. "But could you look through them and give me the ones that you feel are not too personal?"

Snape contemplated that for a second before nodding once. "Agreed."

Harry found one more thing hidden underneath the floorboard. It was a little blue notebook. He opened it to see in intricate detail the makeup of a certain spell. Lily named it 'Portio Compassio Veraque'. Making a mental note to read what it was about later, he tucked it in his pocket, next to the small music box and stood from the floor, frowning as a thought crossed his mind.

"She must have really liked you," he said carefully.

"I already explained to you that we were friends," Snape noted.

"Yes but there only seem to be letters from _you_ in there," Harry countered.

"Hidden away from the world," Snape sighed.

"No," Harry argued. "Kept safe. Protected." It was how _he_ felt about his things underneath _his_ floorboard.

"I'd rather not get into what you're trying to say, Harry," Snape said sternly. "The past is the past and there is nothing we can do to change it. Have you seen enough?"

Harry nodded. He _had_ seen enough for one day. It had been an emotional rollercoaster for both him and his guardian. Right now, he just wanted to head back and read through the research his own mother had done. He wanted to grab the potion recipes but Snape had already taken those for himself.

"If you can decipher her penmanship, I will allow you to read these as well," Snape said. "But I must admit I'm curious myself. As a potions professor, I would like to reserve the right to read through these first."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, _Professor_."

He would read through the notebook first. His mother must have been a very bright witch to come up with her own potions and even spells. He couldn't wait to see what she had managed to create.

Snape carefully locked the door behind him and added a ward for good measure when they exited the house. Together, they made their way back, both mulling over the information they had gotten, getting lost in the memory of Lily Evans.

* * *

_Well well, no real drama again?! I must be losing my touch._

_I hope you all enjoyed this. It was hard to write. I'm not that great at fluffy stuff but in the end, I'm satisfied with the result. _

_Don't worry. It won't be long before angst strikes again._

**Last revised on 11/07/2020**


	37. Chapter 37

_In this chapter, some of the angst has finally returned. I do hope you'll enjoy it.  
A big thanks to everyone who reviewed! You make my day!_

* * *

**Chapter 37**

Harry sat on his bed as he fingered through the notebook. It would appear that the charm his mum seemed to have invented was meant to transport one's feelings to another person. It was similar to a Patronus charm and almost seemed to be derived from that charm, except that you didn't need to think about happy memories per se. You could also convey things like anger and sadness.

You also didn't summon an animal. When Harry tried casting it, it was more like an eerie ball of light which appeared to change in colour somewhat depending on what emotion you were trying to convey. You could also speak a short message to accompany the orb.

It was nothing more than a high-level communication charm but Harry did his best to learn it. After all, it was his mum's legacy.

He and Snape didn't say much to each other for the rest of the day which had been perfectly fine by Harry. He wasn't yet ready to share this spell with his guardian. Right now, it was all his.

As Harry practised swishing his wand just right, he leafed through the pages, eager to learn more. Occasionally he would stumble upon a small doodle or comment his mother had made in the side-lines. It made him smile every time.

When he had nearly reached the end of the book, a piece of paper that had been lodged between two pages fell out of the notebook. Curiously, Harry picked it up.

It was another one of Snape's letters. Gingerly, Harry opened it and read it.

_My dearest Lily,_

_I miss you. I regret what I said to you at school. I was overcome with rage and humiliation and I wrongfully lashed out at you. It is the greatest regret of my life._

_Our friendship is the most precious thing I have right now and I can only hope that you too would seek to preserve it. I don't care that you are muggle-born. I know that one's heritage means absolutely nothing when it comes to skill and power. You have proven this to me time and time again._

_I hope that you can forgive my wrongdoing. I never meant to hurt you and I promise that I will never again use that filthy word or insult you in any other way. Please do not give up on me._

_Always yours,  
Severus_

Harry swallowed hard as he put the paper back where he found it. This was obviously one of the letters Snape definitely didn't want him to read. But it's not like he nicked it or anything. It was just preserved in the notebook. As if it were something precious.

Not for the first time that day, Harry wondered about the relationship between Snape and his mother. He knew that he loved her but was starting to believe that some part of his mother must have loved Snape as well. Why else would she be holding on to his letters and presents as if they were her greatest treasure? Why else would she tuck away this particular letter as if it were something that needed to be preserved? What had happened to drive them apart? Whatever Snape had done, he had not been forgiven. Is it because he became a death eater? Or did he become a death eater because of this?

Harry sighed and put down the notebook. Snape was right. The past was the past and there was nothing anyone could do to change it.

* * *

When Harry went down to the potions lab the next morning with his notes tucked under his arm he was startled to see Snape already there. The man didn't even look up when Harry entered.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Harry said. "Did you need the lab today?"

"Honestly Harry," Snape chided, "It's large enough in here for two people to brew in peace. As long as you are not averse to me being here, you are free to continue your experimentation."

Harry thought that over for a few seconds before deciding that it could do no harm. He took out his two cauldrons and noticed Snape's curious glance but ignored him. Snape's gaze didn't linger as he continued to do his own brewing.

For a few more times that day, Harry tried and failed at getting the potion in the golden cauldron right. It turned to mud every time as soon as he threw in the lilies.

Harry tapped his fingers on the workstation as he thought this over when he was suddenly hit with an epiphany. Yes. This just might work.

He cleaned out his cauldrons and got started again, eager to try out his new idea. Snape was watching him, smirking slightly.

Harry had completed the first part of his potion so many times by now that he could do it with his eyes closed and in much less time compared to the beginning. When he, half an hour later, was ready to throw in the lilies, he took out his wand.

Snape had stopped what he was doing – unbeknownst to Harry – and had put a stasis on his cauldron, watching Harry with his arms crossed as if he was eager to watch the birth of a new potion.

Harry used his wand to draw a pattern of two crossed ellipticals in the air. He uttered the incantation 'Adfectus' as he thought of the sacrifice his mother had made for him. He let her love flow inside of him and smiled when it took the form of a small brightly white orb that happily sunk into his potion. Harry added the lilies right after and watched them crumble with an anxious heart.

He couldn't help but whoop as the potion turned the crystal blue he had expected it to become all along. Finally, he had gotten this far. That left the final part.

Harry took out two small beakers. He filled one with one fifth of the dark blue and four fifths of the light blue potion. In the second beaker, he did the same thing with the colours reversed.

"Can you explain this process?" Snape suddenly asked. Harry nearly jumped out of his skin when he noticed how close Snape was. He had been so focused that he hadn't even noticed the man move.

When he regained his composure he answered the question, "The potions need to counteract with one another," he explained, "This way, I make sure that they are linked."

Snape nodded, "Is it finished?"

"I think so," Harry replied, "Though I can't be sure if it will work."

"Naturally," Snape agreed. "How many test subjects do you need?"

"Just two," Harry said. "One for each potion."

"I'll be right back," Snape said and he walked upstairs. Harry grinned at the hurried steps he saw his guardian take. He suspected Snape was about as excited as he was. Maybe even more so. He didn't have too much faith yet, though. What were the odds that the test would work on the first try?

Snape came back amazingly quickly, carrying a crate with two rats inside of it. Harry frowned.

"Did you just have those lying around or did you happen to know where you could find a rat's nest?"

"Don't bother yourself with technicalities," Snape replied quickly. "Go ahead with your test."

"Sure thing, Professor," Harry said before turning to the two rats. His smile faded a bit. If the test worked – well – one of the rats would not be happy. And if it didn't, the other rat would be the one to suffer. He sighed and grabbed his knife, swallowing thickly.

"What are you doing?" Snape asked carefully.

"Please hold all questions until the end of class," Harry smirked but his voice quavered. He gingerly grabbed one of the rats by the scruff of its neck to avoid being bitten. He grabbed his knife tighter and used its sharp edge to inflict a fatal wound on the rat. He heard Snape click his tongue in dismay but ignored the man.

Harry grabbed the two potion samples. With a syringe, he administered the dark blue potion into the healthy rat after which he administered the light blue one into the quickly dying one. Then he just stood back, crossed his arms and watched.

It was both fortunate and unfortunate that the potion worked as intended. It didn't take long at all. A few minutes at most. The wounds of the dying rat closed up rapidly, effectively healing the animal to its former state. It was a potion that could instantly heal and repair all wounds, no matter how grievous they were.

The perfectly healthy rat, on the other hand, dropped dead instantly.

Harry made some notes on a bit of parchment he was holding and continued observing the live rat to check for any side effects.

"I take it that was a failure," Snape said dryly.

"No," Harry replied. "It was a success." He offered his Professor a weak smile before turning back to his scribbles.

"The second rat died, Harry," Snape admonished.

"Well, you can't very well expect a healing effect that potent without it having any serious drawbacks, can you?" Harry replied sternly. "Surely, you know that."

"I admit that I don't see the point in that case," Snape said warily.

"But _I_ do," Harry said. "Enough people have died for me already. I will not allow that to happen anymore. Not if _I_ can help it."

"In exchange for whose life?" Snape asked angrily.

Harry shrugged. "Take a wild guess."

"Harry," Snape said sternly. "I cannot allow this. What is wrong with you?"

"Plenty of things," Harry growled. "Too many things to count."

"Harry!" Snape admonished desperately. "Your life is too valuable to just throw away! I thought we went over this!"

"Valuable?" Harry threw down an empty vial in anger and watched it shatter on the floor into a hundred tiny pieces.

"I'm a fucking weakling!" He yelled. "That's why my parents died! That's why my only relatives hate me! That's why Voldemort returned. It's why Cedric and Sirius died and it's why – It's why you've always hated me too!"

"Harry-"

"No! I don't want to hear it! I don't want any more people to die. I don't want you –" Harry's voice cracked painfully, "to die as well."

Snape's gaze became cold and dark in the likes Harry had not seen since before the man had first discovered his injuries. He took out his wand and vanished everything. He vanished the potions, the test subjects and the theorem Harry had diligently worked out.

"No!" Harry cried out. "Why would you do that?"

"I will not allow you to even _consider_ sacrificing yourself like that."

Harry sunk to his knees and pounded his fists on the floor, angry tears escaping him, "You can't do this to me," he growled through gritted teeth. "Not after you let my parents die."

"My word is final," Snape said coldly before walking up the steps with heavy footfalls, slamming the door behind him. Harry cried loudly and painfully. He mourned his Godfather, realizing that he hadn't even been able to do that yet. He mourned Cedric and he cried for the seemingly dark future he had no way of stopping. Curling into himself, he sobbed softly, watching his tears fall to the cold and unforgiving stones beneath him.

* * *

"Zippy!" Snape roared furiously. The house-elf appeared immediately, wringing her hands worriedly. She did not dare to speak.

"Keep an eye on Potter," he snarled. "Tell me if he tries to hurt himself in any way. But don't alert the damn boy to your presence."

Zippy nodded and disappeared with a pop.

Snape swore loudly under his breath as he summoned a glass of fire whiskey. He leaned heavily onto the mantel of his fireplace as he stared into the flames. His head was bent and his shoulders were hunched. In his free hand, he held his glass of whiskey so tightly he feared it might break.

Perhaps the boy's sense of self-preservation was _not_ what was out of whack. In reality, Harry appeared to still be suicidal. It was somewhat abated by his hero complex but if he could play the hero by dying for the cause, it seemed to be a choice Harry was all too eager to make.

Snape sighed. He heavily dropped into the nearest chair. He downed the whiskey with one swallow and threw the empty glass into the fire, shattering it effectively.

"Watch the temper, Severus," he told himself softly.

He was not cut out for this. He was not a mind healer and he didn't know what to do. He was furious with the boy for his suicidal tendencies as well as his wish to throw away his life for Snape's own. It made no sense. It was time to call for help.

He grabbed a handful of floo powder from the dish that rested on the mantle and hastily threw it into the fire. After a few seconds of waiting, the familiar grey head of Albus Dumbledore appeared into the flames.

"Good to see you, Severus," he said jovially. "How are you doing?"

"Not very well, Albus," Snape confessed. "I'm at my whit's end, to be honest."

Dumbledore regarded Snape for a few seconds before asking, "May I step inside for a while, Severus?"

Snape stepped aside as a sign that he was allowing Dumbledore entrance. The old wizard did not hesitate and appeared in Snape's sitting room in a matter of seconds.

"What's wrong my boy?" he asked worriedly.

"Please sit, Albus," Snape requested, waving his hand in the direction of a comfortable chair opposite of his. Dumbledore did just that, steepled his fingers and waited.

Snape sat down heavily again and sighed. He ran a hand through his hair before locking gazes with Dumbledore.

"Harry is suicidal, Albus," he said, the words weighing heavily on his heart.

Dumbledore frowned. "What makes you say that?"

Snape explained the potion to Dumbledore. He explained how hard Harry had worked to create it and what its effects were. He explained that Harry knew exactly what he was trying to achieve with his creation and how distraught he was when Snape got rid of it all.

"While a grievous error on his part for sure," Albus agreed. "I wouldn't diagnose him as suicidal based on that. Surely he just wishes to protect what is dear to him."

Snape couldn't hold Dumbledore's gaze anymore and stared into the flames in the hearth. "It wouldn't be the first time he forfeits his life," he said softly.

"Please elaborate if you can," Dumbledore implored but Snape just shook his head.

"I can't," he whispered. "It's already bad enough that I told you in the first place. I implore you to take my worry seriously. I confess that I don't know what to do about this but I need you to believe me."

"I believe you, Severus," Dumbledore said, putting a comforting hand on Snape's shoulder. "Where's Harry now?"

Snape turned his eyes skyward for half a second as if to gather strength before replying. "I left him in the potions lab. He was upset with me for destroying his work and I – I walked away in anger."

"I see," Dumbledore said. "Would you be averse to me going to him?"

"If you think that is best," Snape replied. "Please do."

"Come along then," Dumbledore said, rising from his seat. All of Dumbledore's one hundred and fifteen years of age were suddenly visible on his face. Snape felt a twinge of guilt for calling the wizard but that guilt lessened when he thought about the family Dumbledore had left Harry with. And even though it was not really fair to blame this on the older wizard, it was still the root of Harry's current predicament.

* * *

When Harry heard the door to the lab open again, he didn't move. He didn't have the energy to react to anything right now. He lay on his side with his arms laying limply in front of him, one palm pointed upwards and the other bracing the cold floor. He had stopped crying by now and was now staring at a particularly interesting stain on the far wall. That stain was more interesting than dealing with anyone right now.

"Harry?"

Harry flinched slightly when he recognised the voice as Dumbledore's. Why did Snape have to summon _him_ of all people? Was he really too much to handle? He didn't respond. If he squinted slightly, the stain looked a bit like a dog.

A hand touched his shoulder. This time he didn't flinch. He expected some form of human contact from Dumbledore. It was kind of his thing. He still didn't want to respond, though. His energy was depleted. Maybe it was not a dog. Maybe it was the grim, finally coming for him.

"Harry, please look at me," The older wizard pleaded. The pain in his voice was almost enough to force Harry into submission. Almost. Instead, he focused his gaze on the shards of glass that lay a few feet away from him.

"Lumos," another voice said gruffly. Harry noticed Snape kneeling next to him and shining into his eyes with the lit wand. He frowned. Did they think he was dead?

"If you're not unconscious, I expect you to respond to the headmaster when he calls out to you," Snape growled.

"Leave me alone," Harry said softly. If people would just leave him be, they wouldn't have to die for him anymore. Maybe if he could just stay here - if he could be forgotten – no one would be killed anymore.

"Harry, can you tell me what you're feeling?" Dumbledore asked. Harry snorted at that. As if he could convey his emotions right now.

Feeling somewhat silly all of a sudden, Harry slowly pushed himself upright and sat against the work station he had spent the better part of the week at.

"I'll be fine," he said. "I just need a minute."

"I don't believe you _are_ fine," Dumbledore said, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder again. "You've lost a lot of people in your short lifetime. And I don't believe you've allowed yourself to grieve any of them."

Harry shrugged, "There's no point in grieving for people you never even knew," he said simply. "Nor a boy I only just met. And Sirius only just happened."

"I don't think you believe all that, Harry," Dumbledore said kindly. "I know you've suffered a lot. I just never knew how much it has affected you."

"I'll be prepared for Voldemort, don't worry," Harry said coldly.

"Harry!" Snape admonished harshly but Dumbledore raised his hand.

"I admit that I might have given you the impression that that is where your worth lies, Harry," Dumbledore said. He took a seat on the floor next to Harry with the finesse of a twenty-year-old man.

"But that was never my intention nor is it the truth. Your worth lies within what you _are_ Harry. And what you are is loved."

Harry sniffed, burying his head in his arms as they rested on his knees. "By who?" he asked painfully.

Dumbledore drew his arm across Harry's shoulders and pulled Harry a bit towards him. Snape watched the scene a bit forlornly.

"You are loved dearly by your friends," Dumbledore said kindly. "By all the Weasleys, by Remus, myself and since recently by Severus as well."

Harry snorted which sounded muffled because his face was still hidden. "That's a rather short and desperate list, sir," he said without looking up.

"Does the quantity of your loved ones matter that much, Harry?" Dumbledore asked. "I believe that the ferocity with which one is loved is what's most important. And you do not only love very fiercely but you _are_ loved in the same manner."

Harry looked up at Dumbledore who was smiling brightly at him.

"Until they are all ripped away from me too," Harry replied bitterly. "Until I have no one left. Everyone gets killed because of me."

"People die every day," Dumbledore mused. "Which I believe to only be the next great adventure. Your absence in life will do nothing to change that fact."

Dumbledore now wrapped his second arm around Harry and hugged him tightly as well as he could in the awkward position they both were sitting in. Harry sat stiffly but leaned over a bit nonetheless. Dumbledore's long beard tickled his cheek.

"This too shall pass, Harry," the wizened wizard quoted. "Now how about we get you upstairs and into your bed. This floor is far from comfortable and not at all suitable for my old bones."

Harry nodded and shakily got to his feet. He ignored the dark wizard that was waiting in the corner and stumbled up the stairs, followed by his two professors. Snape had grabbed a dreamless sleep potion from the shelves before exiting the lab himself.

"Sleep well, Harry," Dumbledore said as Harry ascended the stairs. The broken boy said nothing in return, though.

"Zippy," Snape called softly. The house-elf popped into existence once more.

"Master Snape?" she asked nervously.

Snape thrust the vial of dreamless sleep potion at her and motioned for her to take it. "Take this to Harry and make sure that he drinks it as soon as he's in bed. Do not leave until he does."

"Yes, master Snape," she agreed and disappeared with a pop.

"Did something happen while he was here?" Dumbledore asked. "I knew that he was upset but I never thought he would be quite this distraught."

"Nothing too disconcerting happened," Snape said. "We went to Lily's childhood home earlier but Harry seemed happy to do so. He left that house grinning like an idiot."

"I see," Dumbledore said. "I fear I have let it come too far. But he is in the right hands."

"I hardly think that's true," Snape countered.

"What he needs right now is a family, Severus," Dumbledore argued tiredly. "He has that with you and I know that he will improve while he's here."

"But what if something _does_ happen to me, Albus?" Snape said. "The chance is very likely."

"I can't answer that right now," Dumbledore said honestly. "But I will do my best to see to your safety for both your and Harry's sake."

"Thank you, Albus," Snape said before the headmaster flooed home.

* * *

Tiredly, Harry wrote down the list of ingredients he needed to make the potion again. When he was done, he tied the list to Hedwig's foot.

"Only deliver this to my room," Harry told her. "I'll leave the window open for you so you can get in. Do you understand?"

Hedwig hooted softly in reply, intelligence obvious in her eyes.

"Thanks, girl," he said before sending the owl off and snapping his head to Zippy who stood sheepishly next to his bed.

"Just tell him I took it," he argued again.

"You must take it, Young master Harry," Zippy said solemnly. "I cannot leave before you do."

"Fine," Harry resigned himself and took the potion. Perhaps a full night's sleep did not sound so bad after all. When the vial was empty, Zippy took it back from him, no doubt to show Snape as proof. But before she was even able to disappear again, Harry fell soundly asleep on top of his blankets.

He wouldn't even notice it when someone came in a few hours later to move him underneath the blankets and tuck him in, brushing his fringe out of his face gently. Nor when that someone wound up the old music box and set it next to Harry, allowing the music to gently play before leaving the room again.

* * *

_Hurray! I am particularly pleased with this chapter and I hope you are too. The angst finally returned somewhat! Please let me know what you think. I appreciate your feedback._

**Last revised on 11/07/2020**


	38. Chapter 38

**Important: **Okay so after reading some of your reviews I noticed that I neglected to tell you all something important. Horcruxes are not a thing in this story. I don't like them and they wouldn't work with what I've got planned. I'm sorry that I neglected to tell you this. I updated the description as well.

**Clarification:** The potion requires an equal exchange. A rat, for example, would not have enough life energy to restore a human.

* * *

**Chapter 38**

When Harry woke up the next day, the sun was already high in the sky. It was probably because of the dreamless sleep potion. Not feeling particularly up to having breakfast with Snape, he decided to continue with his homework.

He took out the assignment for his potions essay and scoffed at its simplicity. That is to say, it seemed easy to Harry. He had reached a level in brewing potions that surpassed even his level in defence. When brewing the simpler kind of potions, he didn't even need to measure his ingredients anymore. He was able to brew them perfectly just by regarding the potion's thickness, colour and scent, adding ingredients as he saw fit. He noticed that by brewing in that manner, the result was often even better than when he followed the instructions because a recipe did not take into account all of the external factors like slight gradations in heat and the shape of one's cauldron and such.

So when he was asked to write the correct procedure of brewing the Polyjuice potion as well as its effects both intended and when consumed improperly he just rolled his eyes. Not even needing his book he started writing and didn't stop until he heard a knock on his door. His quill froze on the word boomslang where it had just finished writing the letter s but Harry didn't respond. He didn't feel like talking.

The second time he heard the knocking it was clearly more agitated and he decided to not spurn whoever was trying to get his attention, though he already knew who it was.

"Come in," he said evenly as he swivelled his chair, his hands now entwined in his lap.

As suspected it was Snape who opened the door and walked inside. His gaze was stern but wasn't able to put fear into Harry's heart as it once did.

"You didn't come down for breakfast," Snape said. "And I know you've been awake for a while now."

"I was doing my homework," Harry explained as he picked up his parchment as proof.

"Admirable but you do need to eat," Snape countered.

Harry shrugged indifferently. "I'm not hungry."

Snape sat down in an empty chair and ran a hand through his hair. If Harry hadn't felt so drained, he would have chuckled at seeing his potions master so nervous. It was quite unlike him. But right now, he was worried about what that nervousness was all about.

"Harry, we need to talk about what happened yesterday," Snape said.

"Not beating around the bush, are you?" Harry chuckled awkwardly. "Not even a _' Good morning. How did you sleep_'?"

"I don't need to ask how you slept because I know you took the potion," Snape replied. "And I feel that stalling will do neither of us any favours."

"I just had a little breakdown, alright?" Harry said. "I'm fine."

"You call _that_ a little breakdown?" Snape said coldly. "You were nearly catatonic."

"And today, I'm okay again," Harry said gesturing to himself with his hand sweeping from his head to his hips with a flourish.

"You are not okay. And I think you haven't been okay for a long time."

Harry rolled his eyes, "I doubt anyone would be okay with the knowledge that a dark wizard was chasing him," he said bitterly. "Or the knowledge that he is the one who needs to kill that dark wizard."

"Fair enough," Snape replied. "Your life has been far from normal. Unfortunately for you, you still have normal emotions and normal thoughts. The things you encounter every year are clearly difficult to cope with."

"I have no choice though," Harry sighed. "It's not like I can pass on this scar to someone else."

"You can talk about it, Harry," Snape said. "You can tell me anything."

"Can I? As soon as you realized what I was making, you banished all of my efforts. I shouldn't have allowed you anywhere near my experiments."

Harry's tone of voice became increasingly loud and Snape narrowed his eyes at the boy's near outburst. "I wasn't about to let you waste your life."

"It's not a waste if I can use it to save someone else."

Snape sighed exasperatedly. "You are a child! You don't need to be the hero all the time."

"No, all I need to do is kill Voldemort and liberate the entire wizarding world."

"Would you stop being so arrogant as to believe that you are the only one being relied on?" Snape snapped. "I will not deny that you will be invaluable to the war effort but do you honestly believe that we might as well disband the order? That people like me should just have given up on trying to make a difference? All because at the end of the day it is the boy-who-lived that will save everyone?"

"Of course not!" Harry argued.

"Of course not," Snape repeated. "Because you are not alone in this. You have people who will help you to accomplish your goal and I am one of them."

"But what if you-"

"I know the risks, Harry. We all do," Snape interjected. "And while we naturally don't want to see each other get killed, we have a duty to each other to carry on for the greater purpose even if someone we love falls. Because that is how we honour them."

Snape regarded Harry for a moment. The boy seemed to be withdrawing into himself, unsure of what to say.

"Harry," Snape said softly in an attempt to get Harry to look at him. He did so begrudgingly. "I know I'm not particularly safe right now but if anything were to happen to me, my wish would be for you to move on."

"I don't know if I would be able to do that," Harry said angrily.

"It would take time, I'm sure," Snape agreed. "but eventually you would. You are strong."

"I'm sick and tired of being strong," Harry growled through gritted teeth.

"I know," Snape said. "Hopefully this will all be over soon and you won't need to be anymore."

"Severus," Harry sighed. "I don't know how you do it. I don't know how you are as self-sacrificing as you are, doing everything you can in the war effort without having anyone even thank you for it."

Those big green eyes looked up at Snape with pain clear as day swimming in their depths. "Do you even ever ask for anything?"

"I don't need anything," Snape countered.

"You got tortured by Voldemort every time he just felt like it," Harry said. "You performed a role that got everyone to hate you. You've done this for so long! How can you say you don't need anything?"

"I require no payment of any sort for my services because they are a payment for my past wrongdoings," Snape said. His face was blank and his voice betrayed no emotion. Harry hated it when he got like that. "For a short while, I became a death eater for real and I committed atrocities I am not proud of."

"Did you become one because my mum abandoned you?" Harry asked softly.

Snape's head shot up sharply and his gaze was fierce and murderous for a split second. "Why would you say that?"

Harry was slightly taken aback by the menacing tone in Snape's voice but pressed on. "I found a notebook of hers in the floor," he explained. "There was one last letter in there."

"Where is it?" Snape growled.

Harry gingerly took the notebook out of his desk drawer and removed the letter. Snape snatched it out of his hand before he could give it to him and read it, his face losing all colour. For a moment it seemed as if he was going to yell at Harry but eventually, he just sat back down and put the letter in his pocket.

"It was not because of her that I joined," Snape finally said. "I had already been planning it."

"But she was muggle-born," Harry argued. "You must've realized that Voldemort would be after her at some point."

"At the beginning, none of that was clear yet," Snape replied, a small hint of desperation in his voice. "But once you aligned yourself with the Dark Lord, there was no turning back."

"What was the fight about?" Harry asked, eager to learn more now that he got Snape to talk.

Snape regarded Harry for a while, staring into those brilliant green eyes that had once belonged to the woman he loved, mourning what might have been.

"I called her a mudblood," he finally admitted, hanging his head. "She was trying to save me from James and Sirius but I felt humiliated that I would need rescuing at all. So I called her a mudblood and chased her away."

"She threw away your friendship for _that_?" Harry asked in confusion. "That doesn't seem right. Don't get me wrong, that was a horrid thing to say to your friend but to react like that –"

"It didn't help that when she asked me later if I was planning on joining the Dark Lord I told her the truth," Snape explained. "It's only natural that she didn't want anything to do with me anymore."

"But still –"

"Harry," Snape chided lightly. "Let it rest."

"Have you?" Harry asked. "I see how this still affects you."

"I'm quite baffled by how this conversation shifted focus from you to me," Snape suddenly said. "And I believe I've told you quite enough. I just want to make sure that you're not up to anything stupid."

"Of course not," Harry said, doing his best to look offended.

Snape's gaze softened and he put a heavy hand on Harry's shoulder.

"I want you to know that you can always talk to me about anything, Harry," he said seriously. "Anything at all. And while I may take the actions I presume necessary to save you from an untimely demise, I will listen and provide you with guidance to the best of my abilities."

"I know," Harry breathed. "I just don't want to burden anyone."

"You don't," Snape said honestly. "I would much rather have you wake me up at three in the morning because you wish to talk about something than have you suffer through your sorrow on your own."

Snape tilted Harry's head slightly to have the boy look up at him. "Promise me that you'll at least consider talking to me about your worries when you have them."

Harry smiled at him. It was a genuine smile and it made Snape sigh in relief.

"I promise."

* * *

It didn't take long at all for Hedwig to return with the necessary potions ingredients. Harry had filled his days with the completion of his homework. He had allowed Snape to check it over and was given the all-clear after a few mandatory changes.

By the end of that same week, the ingredients arrived. Now he would have to wait for Snape to go on an errand of some kind before he could get started. Lucky for Harry, that moment came soon. Snape was summoned to an Order meeting. The man did not want to go there at all but Dumbledore insisted.

Snape had grumbled many times about the fact that the Aurors in the order did not trust him one bit. In fact, Lupin seemed to be the only one who treated Snape with any form of decorum. But when Dumbledore summons you, you have little choice and to Harry's delight, Snape left with the instruction that if he was not back in time for dinner, Harry was to eat without him.

Great! That meant that Snape was planning on being gone for a long time.

"Zippy!" Harry called. Zippy popped into the room and watched Harry with a smile.

"What can I do for young master?" she asked eagerly.

"Zippy, I'm worried about Hedwig," Harry lied. "Could you go to my room and watch out for her? Call me as soon as she returns if you will. I have other things I need to do."

"Zippy is on it!" Zippy said and popped back out.

Harry felt horrible for lying to Zippy but he couldn't have her spying on him and telling Snape what he had been up to in his absence. The man would just ruin his creation again.

It's not as if he was planning on using it any time soon if at all. He just wanted to have it just in case.

He stalked down to the potions lab that Snape had left unlocked in case Harry needed it for his homework. Harry snorted at the thought that Snape had often called _him_ a naive Gryffindor as if it was a bad thing. And here _he_ was, trusting Harry not to fool around in his lab. Even though that thought filled Harry somewhat with guilt, he pushed the unwanted feeling to the back of his mind and went straight to work. He could not be sure that he would even have enough time.

* * *

"Voldemort has been highly active of late," Dumbledore stated sadly. "Ever since he was spotted at the ministry he's obviously seen no further reason to keep his presence hidden."

"It's too bad that we don't have a man on the inside anymore," Moody grumbled in annoyance. "We would have known where You-Know-Who would strike in advance."

"Yes well, since no other order members were making sure that Mr Potter didn't leap to his death chasing his godfather's corpse, I saw no choice but to intervene," Snape retorted angrily. "My apologies if that has disturbed your plans for me."

"I'm sure he didn't mean it like that, Severus," Lupin said carefully as he threw a quick glance at Moody who was suddenly very interested in his flask. "I, for one, am very thankful for what you have done for Harry."

Snape crossed his arms, saying nothing. He regarded every single order member at the table carefully and knew for a fact that their opinions of him had not changed in the slightest.

"Gentlemen, please," Dumbledore urged. "We are all on the same side here. I would prefer we avoid any infighting and get back to the matter at hand."

When no one spoke in protest, Dumbledore elaborated. "Voldemort has been attacking muggle cities, killing whoever crossed his path. I'm afraid that he's searching for Harry by doing so."

"The boy doesn't live with his aunt and uncle anymore, correct?" Moody said. "So that shouldn't be a problem."

"But he still resides in a predominantly muggle town," Dumbledore countered.

"And where is that, Albus?" Tonks asked curiously. Snape hated the way she fidgeted with her hair when she was bored. Did she have to be that obvious?

"He currently lives in Cokeworth with our own Severus Snape," Albus happily announced.

Snape enjoyed the shocked looks on the order members' faces.

"Problem?" he sneered.

"I should say so!" Moody exclaimed. "Albus, you're allowing Harry Potter, the sodding boy-who-lived to stay with a death eater?"

"Alastor," Dumbledore chided harshly. "Severus has been a loyal member of the order for a long time. You know that I trust him completely. I will not tolerate any further exclamations of distrust concerning him. Do I make myself clear?"

"Fine, Albus," Moody agreed in annoyance. "But why with him?"

"I too would like to know that," Lupin said. "Could he not have stayed with me?"

"Remus-" Dumbledore said softly but Lupin shook his head.

"Never mind, Albus. I know why he couldn't."

"As for why he's staying with Severus, I'm afraid that I cannot answer that question for it is entirely confidential," Dumbledore said much to Snape's relief. "Maybe, in due time, either Severus or Harry will inform you. Until then, I count on your discretion.

"On that note, Severus needs to provide you all with access to his home through the floo network," Dumbledore continued. "Should Voldemort ever decide to attack Cokeworth, I need everyone to be able to get there as soon as they can."

Dumbledore had discussed this part with Snape and though he was not at all happy about granting anyone else access to his home like that, he understood the necessity.

"Please be mindful to not disturb Severus with anything but an emergency," Dumbledore concluded. "If you do – well – it's Severus' house, his consequences."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled excessively and Snape couldn't help but roll his eyes at the man.

After they had gone through the annoyingly long process of granting everyone access, Dumbledore went over a few other points.

"People seem to be going missing from the floo network when they use it of late, so be mindful of that. Try to travel in pairs. Owls have been going missing as well so do try to encrypt your important messages and to write as little as possible.

As for the next school year, I would like to request some volunteers to ride the train with the children for their protection. Anyone?"

Snape would be damned if he was going to stroll around on that train for hours on end. No, he would go through the floo with Harry. Let the rest of the order deal with the other children.

"If there are no further questions, this meeting is adjourned," Dumbledore finally said, much to Snape's relief. They had been there for hours! There was just one more thing he needed to do.

"Arthur," he called out to the father of the Weasleyspawn. "Might I speak with you for a moment?"

"Of course, Severus," Arthur gladly obliged.

They sat aside from the rest of the group where no one would be able to hear them. Uncertainly, Snape broached the subject he needed to discuss. "I feel as if Harry has the need to be with friends right now. Would you mind terribly if he came over tomorrow?" While it might not be completely safe, Snape thought a visit with his friends might do wonders for the depressed teen currently under his care.

Arthur blinked in confusion before responding. "Harry is always welcome, Severus," he said heartily. "As are you if you wish to join us."

"I'd rather not," Snape replied curtly. "Shall I drop him off around ten?"

"Sounds good. Molly will be pleased too."

"Can I count on you to escort Harry back at the end of the day?"

"That goes without saying."

"Thank you, Arthur."

When Snape returned home, it was already dark out. Dinnertime was long over and there was no sight of Potter. He had probably already gone off to bed.

Just to be sure, Snape stalked upstairs like a shadow in the night and opened the door to Harry's room ever so slightly to check on the boy.

The rise and fall of a sleeping body underneath the covers was unmistakable. Hedwig sat on her cage and looked at Snape with large accusing eyes as if to shoo Snape away from her master. Content that Harry was safe still, Snape retired to his own bedroom. It had been a long day.

* * *

Harry groaned when he was awoken by someone knocking on his door.

"What time is it?" he whined.

Snape barged in his room, smirking just a bit too widely to announce, "It's already eight. Time to get up."

Harry threw his pillow at Snape and buried his head under his blanket. He said something but the blanket muffled the sound.

Snape tore the blanket away from Harry who curled up into a ball, shivering slightly.

"You don't want to be late, do you?" Snape asked.

"I don't have anywhere to be," Harry whined. "Give me back my blanket or I'll hex you."

"You are expected at the Weasleys at ten," Snape said, ignoring Harry's little threat.

"Why?" Came Harry's puzzled reply. Snape frowned.

"I was under the impression that you wished to see each other regularly over the summer break. You can take your broom and fly when you're there."

"I guess," Harry shrugged. "Okay, I'll get ready."

"You have thirty minutes before breakfast is served," Snape said before he turned and swept out of Harry's room.

Harry was a bit confused about all this. Had Snape arranged a playdate for him or something? When? Had he discussed it with Mr Weasley at the order meeting? He didn't really feel like meeting up with his friends but he knew there was no arguing with Snape. And a ride on his broomstick did seem like fun.

He got washed and dressed and – just to be spiteful – arrived downstairs exactly thirty minutes after Snape had summoned him.

The man did not seem bothered, though. He was reading the Daily Prophet while sipping his morning tea.

"Sit," he ordered. "and eat something."

Harry served himself some of the eggs and bacon and started eating. After a few minutes of peace and quiet, Snape made an attempt at conversation.

"How did you learn Portio Compassio Veraque, Harry?" he asked.

Harry nearly choked on his juice. "Huh?"

"Eloquent," Snape sneered. "That spell you used in your potion. It was one that your mother invented."

"How do you know that?" Harry asked.

Snape put down his newspaper and frowned somewhat. "We were friends. Why _wouldn't_ I know?"

"So why did she invent it?"

Snape sighed, "Since we were in different houses it wasn't always prudent to meet each other for any heart to heart conversations," he explained. "With the spell she invented, we could speak with one another from afar. Even if we were both in our respective dorms."

"That was smart of her," Harry commented.

"Yes, she was very clever for her age," Snape agreed. "Your attempt at diversion aside, how did you learn it?"

"Oh," Harry shrugged. "You remember that notebook I told you about yesterday?"

Snape nodded once.

"Well, it was almost entirely about that spell," Harry clarified. "So, I figured – since it was my mum's legacy – that I should at least attempt to learn it."

"You must have some of your mother's talent in charms," Snape finally said. "It took me months to get the hang of that spell."

Harry blushed a bit. "Thank you, sir."

"Now get ready. It's nearly time for us to leave," Snape grunted.

"Us?" Harry questioned.

"The Dark Lord seems to be randomly attacking the floo network," Snape explained. "So you are not to use it alone."

"What about you?" Harry frowned.

"In the worst-case scenario, I can still apparate," Snape explained. "But I would like to avoid that because it would give the Dark Lord another means to trace us."

Satisfied with that answer, Harry got his broomstick, put on his shoes and found himself pulled tightly against Snape's side about half an hour later while the pair travelled through the floo network to the burrow. They met with no resistance on the way.

"Are you sure you can't stay for a while, Severus?" Molly had asked but Snape would rather not be forced into some form of social etiquette and soon took his leave.

"Be back by eight," He had growled before vanishing with a swish of his cloak into the green flames, leaving Harry at the mercy of the Weasleys.

* * *

Snape had thought that, once back home, he would be able to relax with a good book and a nice glass of fire whiskey. He hadn't even felt like brewing anything that day. Unfortunately for him, his peace was disturbed rather quickly.

The first time it happened was as soon as Snape got back home. Zippy had popped up in front of him, had regarded him with big watery eyes and had popped back out.

Snape had just rolled his eyes at the awkward behaviour of his house-elf but had chosen to ignore it. This happened a few more times during the day. When Zippy popped up behind him during lunch, causing him to spill tea all over himself, he had chased her away with a variety of profanities. It took a long while for her to reappear after that but when she did, Snape fixed her with a pointed glare.

"Enough, Zippy," he growled. "I don't know what has got you out of sorts today, but you will tell me what you have been wanting to tell me or so help me I'll be in the market for another house-elf!"

Zippy squeaked and dropped to her knees. "Forgive me, Master Snape," she cried. "I wants to tell yous, I really, truly wish it but Young Master would be upset."

"Zippy," Snape snapped. "I have nothing but his best interest at heart. Also, I take precedence over him. If you have something to say, I order you to do so now."

Zippy squeaked again but nodded. "Young Master believed he distracted me, sir," she said. "But I knowing. I knowing what he made."

"What did he make, Zippy?" Snape's tone was low and dangerous. That foolish boy better had not.

"His potion, Master," Zippy confessed. "Young master remade the potion and hided it from you."

* * *

**Last revised on 11/07/2020**


	39. Chapter 39

_I am so damn curious to know what you will all think about this chapter. I think it's the best one yet.  
I'm sorry that I haven't been able to answer some people's questions. My reviews are still being held hostage so I couldn't reply. So to those who had ideas regarding the potion as well as any future potions, I apologize. This was my vision and this is how I wanted it to be. You'll see when you reach the end of the chapter._

_Thanks for all your reviews!_

* * *

**Chapter 39**

"So how's the old dungeon bat treatin' ya, Harry?" Fred asked eagerly.

"Our dear Ronnykins tells us he is still as scary as ever!" George piped up. "Practically tossed him out of his home we hear."

"We would do the same if we could, mind you."

"But mum would have a fit!"

"Oh, knock it off you two," Mrs Weasley admonished. "I'm sure Harry is having a lovely time, aren't you, dear?"

"Everything is great, Mrs Weasley, thanks," Harry replied. It was far better over there than at the Dursleys, that's for sure.

"You never did tell us why you left your relatives, Harry," Mrs Weasley said. "Did something happen?"

Harry didn't know why but for a moment he felt inclined to tell this woman – who had cared for him since the day she met him – the complete and honest trust about what his relatives had done to him. Instead, he settled on revealing a mere sliver of the truth.

"They didn't want me anymore."

"Well that is just the most horrible thing I ever heard," Mrs Weasley huffed. "You are such a lovely boy, too. You are always welcome here, you know."

"I wouldn't want to put you in any danger, ma'am," Harry said honestly. "If anything would happen to you because of me, I would never forgive myself."

This elicited an impromptu hug from the Weasley mother hen that nearly smothered Harry. Fred and George snickered at his obvious discomfort.

"Mom, let him go!" Ron shouted as he bounded down the stairs. "If we don't bring him back alive, Snape will kill me!"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Ron," Mrs Weasley chided but she did release Harry from her loving death grip. "And that is P_rofessor_ Snape."

Ron rolled his eyes.

"And don't roll your eyes at me, young man," Mrs Weasley said loudly, her hands on her hips.

"Sorry mum," Ron grinned as he swiped a leftover breakfast roll from the table. "You alright there, Harry?"

"Great!" Harry replied happily. "Can we go flying?" He directed his hopeful attention to Mrs Weasley who obviously melted at the sight of those sparkling green eyes. It worked every time.

"Of course you can, dear," she said warmly. "But do try to be careful."

One of the great things about the Weasley family was that there were always enough people to play some sort of quidditch match. They all drew their roles out of a hat. Harry was to be a beater and Ron became a seeker for that day.

Harry hadn't felt that happy in weeks. There was truly little that could top the feeling of riding a broom.

"And Fred Weasley scores again!" Fred exclaimed loudly. "The crimson lions win! Tough break, Harry."

"Oh please, we _let_ you win," Harry said haughtily. "Otherwise we'd never hear the end of Ron's complaining."

"Hey!" Ron complained. "That's not true."

"Sure it isn't, Ronnykins," George laughed as he threw one arm around Ron's neck, pulling him close. "You keep telling yourself that."

"Time for dinner!" Mrs Weasley shouted loudly. Harry was the first to land his broom. Flying always made him hungry.

* * *

"So your birthday is coming up soon," Ron stated as he shoved a potato into his mouth. "Are you going to have a wicked Hogwarts birthday party like last year?"

"I don't know," Harry shrugged. "You would have to ask Snape."

"No way!" Fred and George said in unison.

"It was Snape who arranged all that?" Fred asked.

"We assumed it was Dumbledore," George agreed.

"You could have it here if you want, dear," Mrs Weasley offered. "I'll arrange it with Severus if you'd like."

"That would be great, Mrs Weasley," Harry said happily. "If I can do anything to help prepare, please let me know."

"What nonsense, Harry," Mrs Weasley frowned. "You are forbidden to help out with your own birthday party."

"Thank you," Harry said honestly. "You guys are great!"

After the dinner that was hands down one of the best Harry had ever eaten, Mr Weasley offered to accompany him home. "It's not just for you, Harry," Mr Weasley explained when he saw Harry's annoyed expression. "We all need to travel in pairs. Things are getting more dangerous for everyone."

"Bye Harry," Mrs Weasley gave him one last smothering hug. "Let us know whenever you feel like coming over again, okay?"

"I will," Harry agreed. "Bye Ron, see you soon."

"Yeah but rather here than there," Ron growled, earning himself a light smack from his mother.

"Get home safe," George said.

"And practice some more on that broomstick," Fred laughed. "Because you did not make a good beater."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll cream you next time," Harry grinned before walking through the floo with Mr Weasley.

* * *

As soon as Harry stepped out of the floo he had a terrible sense of foreboding. If the menacing glare of his guardian wasn't enough indication, the trembling house-elf that threw him apologetic glances sure was.

"Harry James Potter," the man growled. "You have some explaining to do."

Harry clutched his Firebolt tighter in an attempt to find comfort. When that didn't work, he turned to Mr Weasley who just shrugged. "Whatever you did, Harry, I'm not getting involved."

With a sideways smile, Mr Weasley said his goodbyes and turned to leave through the floo when the house suddenly shuddered violently.

"What was that?" Harry asked, his eyes wide but before anyone could respond a second, more violent tremor attacked the house. A loud alarm started blaring and an eerie green light started flashing.

"Alert the order, Arthur," Snape shouted. "Go!"

Not having to be given an instruction twice, Arthur disappeared through the floo, leaving Harry and Snape to fend for themselves.

"Accio invisibility cloak," Snape commanded. As soon as the garment was within range, he grabbed it out of the air and threw it on Harry.

"You can't expect me to stay hidden," Harry hissed.

"I can and I do," Snape replied icily. "Do as I say for just this once."

Harry wanted to protest some more when the front door blew open with a bang. Snape pushed the now invisible Harry into a corner next to the fireplace and positioned himself in front of him.

"Oh, Potteeeeer," Came the sing-songy voice of what was unmistakably Bellatrix Lestrange. "We know you're heeeeeeere."

A loud crash could be heard from somewhere in the hallway making Harry flinch from underneath his cloak. He held his wand at the ready just in case. He hoped that the Order members would be here soon.

"Oh Lucius, look!" Bellatrix screeched gleefully when she rounded the corner to come face to face with Snape. "I found a rat."

Lucius joined her in the doorway with his wand firmly at the ready. Bellatrix' wand was already aimed at Snape's chest.

"Fancy meeting you here, Bella, Lucius," Snape greeted coldly.

Bellatrix laughed maniacally, cocking her head back in delight. "The Dark Lord will be so pleased to know that we flushed you out," she giggled but then she became serious as if someone flipped a switch. "Where are you hiding the Potter brat?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Snape replied. "Why would you even suspect he's here. He's with his aunt and uncle as always."

"Don't take me for a fool, Severus," Lucius drawled, a smirk firmly in place. "How many snowy owls do you suspect fly around these parts?"

"I admit to some correspondence being made between Mr Potter and myself," Snape replied smoothly. "But he is not here."

"And yet," Lucius continued as he twirled his wand threateningly. "We've noticed him traverse here by means of the floo network not even fifteen minutes ago."

Lucius smirked dangerously when Snape didn't reply to that. "Oh, dear. It would appear that I caught you red-handed, did I not?"

"Enough talk, Lucius," Bellatrix snapped. "Tell us where the boy is or suffer the consequences. Oh and I do hope you'll choose the consequences, my dear old colleague."

"He is not here," Snape insisted.

"Crucio!" Bellatrix screamed. Snape did his best to dodge the curse but the two death eaters had been too close. Soon, he found himself writhing in agony on the floor. He tried not to scream because he knew that Harry would not be able to stop himself from intervening if he believed the situation to be dire. So he bit his tongue to the point he tasted blood.

Begrudgingly, Bellatrix lifted the curse when Lucius raised his hand.

"Care to try again, old friend?" Lucius asked. Several loud thumps and crashes could now be heard coming from upstairs. When Snape glared at Lucius, the man just raised an eyebrow. "Surely you did not think we would come alone, did you?"

Harry felt the panic rise from his chest to his throat. He was trembling but his wand hand was steady. He saw how Snape recovered his wand that had fallen on the ground when he was hexed and focused his gaze on Bellatrix. _She_ was the one who had murdered Sirius.

The crazed woman took a few steps forward, ignoring Snape as she did and let her gaze glide across the interior, "Come out, come out wherever you aaaare," she sang. "Unless you want us to play with your dear professor some more."

Staying under the invisibility cloak seemed like the most cowardly thing Harry could possibly do. Mentally telling himself that he would have to apologize to Snape later, he decided to join the fray. He cast a silent Stupefy at Malfoy and grinned to himself when the man fell down, completely caught by surprise.

Snape did not waste a second. He jumped to his feet right at the moment that Bellatrix turned around, a hint of confusion in her eyes.

"Expelliarmus!"

"Crucio!"

Both Snape and Bellatrix dove to their right in order to evade the offensive spells cast their way. Both succeeded. Unfortunately for Harry, Bellatrix brushed past him when she rolled and snagged his cloak, revealing his head.

"Potter!" she exclaimed gleefully. She erected a barrier to protect herself from Snape's incoming curse and smirked broadly. "Found you," she whispered.

Given the close proximity of the death eater, Harry decided to forego his wand for the moment and slammed Bellatrix into the wall. She just laughed hysterically in response.

"Is wittle Hawwy still upset with me?" she mocked.

"Stupefy," Snape yelled and Bellatrix hit the ground.

"Get under your cloak, at once!" Snape instructed Harry but it was too late. The sounds of Bellatrix' incessant shrieking had alerted the Death eaters that had been upstairs. They came swarming down the stairs while more of them came through the front door.

They awoke their fallen comrades who joined their ranks immediately, surrounding both Snape and Harry, circling them like a committee of vultures. There must have been at least a dozen of them.

Harry and Snape stood back to back, their wands out and their minds reeling.

"Remember to keep them alive," Lucius said with authority. "If only barely."

Several of the Death Eaters fired a variety of hexes and curses.

"Protego!"

"Protego infractum!"

As if in sync, the unlikely pair of allies threw up their shields, blocking nearly everything. Harry watched in delight how the spells rebounded off his multitude of shields only to harm their original casters but he was shaken out of his reverie when he heard a grunt of pain from behind him.

"Keep your eyes up front," Snape growled when he felt the shift in Harry's stance. "Don't get distracted."

"Ignis Procella," came a booming voice. Harry had never been so glad to see the headmaster. From his wand, a fiery column extended to the nearest Death Eater and made its way around the circle. Most of them managed to jump out of the way in time but some of them got burned horribly.

Spells started to fly overhead and Harry saw that Dumbledore was accompanied by several other members of the Order. When Harry glanced at Snape, he saw that the man had been hit with a cutting hex causing his arm to bleed profusely. The damage didn't seem to be too significant though.

"Voldemort is on his way," Tonks said as she dodged a spell effortlessly, landing herself next to Snape. "Get out of here."

Snape nodded and started dragging Harry with him. "Come, Harry!"

"But we have to fight!" Harry objected. "They're here for me!"

"That's precisely why we need to leave, you foolish child," Snape hissed. He really didn't want to have this argument now. "Come with me or I will stun you and drag you with me anyway."

Harry took a few seconds to decide before nodding grimly.

"Fine," he said, walking behind the fast-paced professor. "Accio Harry's potions."

Snape turned his head sharply but Harry had already caught the potions before he could say anything.

"Let's go!" Harry said, stopping any and all arguments.

Snape all but ran to the potions lab. Harry – who was a bit confused by this – followed the man trustingly. He ducked just in time to avoid getting hit with a Stupefy and glanced over to see Lupin pounce on Fenrir Greyback.

And then they were through the door and down the stairs into the potions lab. Snape warded the door with a quick few spells, knowing full well that they wouldn't hold long.

With purpose, he walked to a cluttered bookshelf and took out one of the books. In response, the shelf slid aside easily, creaking as it did. Harry watched with his mouth agape, momentarily forgetting their predicament.

"So there _was_ a secret tunnel," he breathed in awe.

"If you're quite done gawking, do get in," Snape urged as he pushed Harry forward with a well-placed hand between his shoulder blades.

"Where are we going?" Harry urged.

A loud bang on the door indicated that their time was nearly up.

"Get in, you foolish brat," Snape growled. Harry didn't need any more urging and quickly got in, followed immediately by Snape who somehow closed the door behind him.

"Lumos," Snape whispered and led the way through the dark tunnel. Snape needed to bend over in order to move forward but Harry found that he could almost remain upright. The walls of the tunnel were earthy and wet. Rats and spiders moved away from Snape's lit wand before the pair even got near. Harry could see roots from trees and shrubs protruding from the earth above them as they passed.

Every now and then, the ground shook causing loose dirt to fall in Harry's hair. Neither he nor Snape spoke. The only sound besides the vicious tremors was Snape's ragged breathing. Maybe his injury was worse than Harry originally thought.

As they moved forward, the air became colder. Much colder. If Harry didn't know any better he would have guessed that they were going deeper and deeper below ground. But they were moving upwards again and still the air was boarding on frigid. Harry could see his breath when he exhaled.

"Oh no," he whispered.

Snape seemed to understand the implication as well. "Indeed. Get ready."

When they emerged from the tunnel they were met with dozens of dementors. The vile cloaked creatures floated overhead twisting their sightless faces as if in search of something. Or someone. When one of them spotted Harry, it emitted a horrible wail in alarm. Harry heard a woman scream in the distance.

"Expecto Patronum," Snape and Harry yelled in unison. A doe and a stag sprouted forth and attacked the surrounding darkness with their light blue sheen. Their paths entwined elegantly as they charged ahead, Snape and Harry in tow.

With Patroni directed as necessary, they ploughed their way forward. When Harry looked back over his shoulder he halted momentarily. In the sky above Snape's house floated the dark mark in all its unholy glory. The dementors that soared through the air as if in reverence of the mark bestowed upon the house a dark sheen that Harry had wished to never recognize again. Foul green light still radiated from within the house. Harry found it hard to release his gaze.

A shimmering doe broke his gaze and ushered Harry to move with a light buck of its head.

"Move, Harry!" Snape shouted when Harry turned back around. "We've no time."

Still reluctant to leave his saviours behind, Harry did as he was told, directing his stag to take out another dementor that came a bit too close for comfort.

It was fortunate that there didn't seem to be any muggles nearby. The cold aura that permeated the area was probably the most likely deterrent.

As they moved, Harry became aware of where they were going. They were going straight to his mother's house. Harry's Patronus charged at a cluster of dementors that seemed to guard the bridge whilst Snape's defended their back. The river was frozen solid, its ice appearing as if it was clawing its way out of its banks.

"So good of you to join me, Severus, Harry," hissed the cold dead voice of Voldemort. "Aren't you two endearing? Fighting side by side as if you've done so for years." As the dementors parted from the bridge, the tall figure of Voldemort was revealed. His ripped robes were billowing around him in the icy wind that embraced him. His pale skin seemed far too thin as Voldemort's bones almost seemed to shimmer through. He was barefoot and seemed to pay no mind to the cold. He smiled triumphantly as he locked gazes with his enemy.

"What's the matter, Tom?" Harry growled. "Too scared of Dumbledore to join your pitiful Death Eaters?"

"Why would I fight Dumbledore when my prize is right here?" Voldemort purred. "And you even brought me a gift." His gaze shot to Snape as his smile widened.

"Oh Severus, you are sorely missed," he said.

"Don't talk to him!" Harry yelled. "It's _me_ you want."

"Stop it, Harry," Snape hissed. "Why are you provoking him?" His voice was commanding but Harry could see that Snape was fearful. He knew what would happen to him should Voldemort manage to capture him. Death would be the least of his worries.

"Do you need protection from a child, Severus?" Voldemort smirked. "How the mighty have fallen."

"Expelliarmus!" Harry yelled.

"No!" Snape shouted but Harry didn't listen. Voldemort sidestepped the spell effortlessly.

"Very well, Harry," he said kindly. "If you wish to battle, so it shall be. _Crucio_!"

Harry leapt out of the way and shouted a counter curse, "Incendio!"

"Aguamenti," Voldemort said easily, dousing the fire that hadn't even come close to striking him.

"Confringo, Incendio, Ventus," Voldemort roared in quick succession. Harry dove, dodged and blocked the respective curses, all the while stumbling over the debris the spells caused.

"Sectumsemra, Stupefy!" Snape tried while Harry attempted to find his balance but Voldemort blocked it easily. Slightly peeved because of the distraction he clicked his tongue.

"Stay out of this. I will deal with you later," he growled.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry yelled again while stepping closer and when Voldemort blocked it. "Praefringo."

Harry broke through Voldemort's shield, causing the wizard to take a step back.

"Terra Motus," Snape growled and the ground beneath Voldemort's feet trembled, nearly causing him to lose his footing.

"Enough!" Voldemort shouted. "Unda!"

The frozen water started to crack and levitated out of the water. The icy blocks swirled around Voldemort as if to shield him from any further assault while he began tossing the blocks towards Snape and Harry one at a time.

Harry dodged a rather large block that would have shattered every bone in his body but didn't see the smaller one that was hidden behind it. He screamed in pain when it connected with his elbow, effectively breaking it.

"Avada Kedavra!" Snape tried desperately, his spell merely bouncing off of the icy tornado that held a smirking Voldemort at its centre.

"Tsk, tsk, Severus," Voldemort chided. "You can't honestly have expected that to work. But here, let me show you how it goes. _Avada Kedavra_!"

Harry halted his movements and watched in horror how Voldemort cast the killing curse. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Snape take cover behind a decrepit wall.

"Bombarda Maxima!" Voldemort yelled, blasting the wall to pieces. Snape covered his head with his hands to avoid head trauma but the rubble still collided harshly with his shoulder and back. Not wasting any more time, Harry attempted to stalk closer to Voldemort, dodging the chunks of ice that were still flying everywhere.

"Nebulus," Snape said softly. Thick mist erupted from the tip of his wand and enveloped himself and Harry, hiding them from Voldemort's piercing gaze. The only entities that remained truly visible were the Patroni that were still bravely battling the flock of dementors.

Voldemort cackled loudly. "Oh, Severus. You must be truly desperate," he shouted. "Perhaps you should say goodbye to the boy now that you still can."

Snape snuck away from the now crumbled wall and hid in a nearby alcove. He winced as his back pressed against the wall behind him. He definitely broke a rib or two and probably dislocated his shoulder. He looked down at the wand in his hand and willed himself to stop trembling. If only they could hold out long enough for Dumbledore to come to their aid.

Harry had thankfully made use of the fog to continue sneaking into position. It made it harder to dodge the icy blocks but somehow Harry managed to not get hit again. Eventually, he was able to sneak right underneath the bridge Voldemort was standing on, facilitated because of the now-empty river.

"There's no point in hiding," Voldemort purred. "I know you're here. I can taste your fear in the air."

Harry thought of his love for his mother and how she died for him. He thought of the love he had felt for Sirius and the love he now unmistakably recognised he had for Snape. Holding those thoughts at the forefront of his mind he whispered, "Adfectus."

The effect was instantaneous. As soon as that orb of light reached Voldemort, the husk of what once was a man became enveloped in a golden light and started screaming in agony. The blocks of ice fell unceremoniously from the sky, striking down some of the few dementors that were left.

Harry dodged backwards to evade a chunk of the glacial death trap but his right leg got clipped in its fall. Not wanting to pause to think about the pain, Harry shuffled away some more using his good leg.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Snape cautiously moving forward with his wand arm extended. When he saw Harry they locked gazes for a moment. Harry got the message. The time was now.

"Sectumsempra!" They cried simultaneously.

Distracted by the agony that the feelings of love brought forth, Voldemort was only able to block one of the attacks. "Protego," he hissed, deflecting the spell to Snape who was too weak to dodge it. As Harry watched, a gash formed across his lower abdomen. For a few seconds, Snape stood as if nothing had happened before collapsing in a heap, blood flowing from the deadly gash.

Voldemort was struck equally badly. The cut he had suffered from Harry's wand ran from the right side of his neck all the way down to his left inner thigh.

"Expelliarmus," Voldemort hissed. Taken aback by Snape's injury, Harry saw the attack too late and lost his wand. He didn't care, though. He tried to scramble up to go help his guardian. He needed to. At that moment, it was his sole purpose in life.

"Harry," Snape called out sternly but unable to keep the pain out of his voice. "Occlude your mind!"

Harry froze. Occlude his mind? Voldemort, though he was in agony, seemed to take that as his cue. With a flick of his wand, he dragged Harry back to him. With a thud, Harry hit the railing of the bridge while Voldemort towered over him.

He tried occluding. He really did. But he was feeling so much at that moment. He feared for Snape's life. He feared for the lives of the Order members. He felt hopeful that Voldemort could finally be defeated and he was cold and in pain. There was no way for him to focus and empty his mind which is why it took Voldemort no time at all to see everything.

With another flick of his wand, he stole the two potions Harry had on him. Harry hopelessly grabbed at the vials. He needed those! But Voldemort just slapped his hands away and accepted the vials for himself.

"Severus," he said icily. "Seeing how you're on death's door anyway, you have no problem with helping me, do you?" Voldemort held out the dark blue potion.

"Give me one good reason," Snape spat. "Why would I save you?" All colour had faded from Snape's face and it was clear that he would soon lose consciousness.

Voldemort held his wand against Harry's throat and smirked. "I've seen everything, Severus," he said victoriously. "I've seen the relationship you two have. If you don't drink the potion, I will kill your ward."

"You will kill him no matter what," Snape hissed. "I know you will."

"If you do me this favour, I won't," Voldemort said solemnly.

"No!" Harry yelled. "Don't do it! Leave him alone!"

Voldemort backhanded Harry roughly, causing him to fall hard onto the ground. With a trembling flick of his wand, the potion soared towards Snape who had a resigned expression on his face.

"No," Harry breathed. "No!" His injured leg would not carry him anymore so he started crawling towards Snape. He could still stop him.

Snape accepted the potion when it reached him and uncorked it at the same time that Voldemort uncorked his light blue version.

"Stop it!" Harry cried. "don't do this!"

"Harry," Snape said, breathing heavily. "This is not your fault. Carry on without me."

"NOOOOOO!"

Voldemort and Snape downed the potion together. Instantly, Snape's body went limp. What colour he had left, faded from his face. His eyes glazed over and stared into the nothingness as his breathing stopped.

Somewhere nearby, the Patronus of a doe faded into the darkness.

* * *

**Last revised on 12/07/2020**


	40. Chapter 40

_Thank you all for your reviews. I was so proud to receive mock-death threats and reviews filled with cursing. It means I accomplished what I wanted to. So without further ado: enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter 40**

Harry stared at the now lifeless body in front of him. How had this backfired so spectacularly? Did his lack of Occlumency skills kill someone yet again? Anguished, Harry pulled at his hair. He squeezed his eyes shut hoping, praying that this was all a bad dream. But the chill in the air did not fade and the pain from his injuries did not dull.

When he opened his eyes again, a stray tear managed to escape and fell on Snape's limp hand. Harry grabbed it with his own two hands and held it close to his heart.

"Please don't leave me," he whispered. "I need you. You're the closest thing I have to a – a father."

He got no response from the still, pale lips.

With loving reverence, Harry stroked a stray strand of hair out of Snape's face and looked at it with intense longing. He needed to wake up.

"Wake up," he said softly. When he didn't get a response again, he got angry.

"Wake up, you greasy git," he snarled. "How dare you do this to me! How dare you let my mother down again." He chocked back a heavy sob. "Don't die on me!"

Voldemort chuckled and Harry's heart turned to ice. This was the man that had killed his parents. This was the man responsible for Sirius' death and this was the man that killed Snape. How dare he laugh?

Harry turned around, murder in his tear-filled eyes. Voldemort didn't seem taken aback in the slightest. His enormous wound was still oozing blood but would most likely start healing any second now.

"You did me a great favour, Harry," Voldemort grinned. "Your experiment has been most useful to me. Since I'm in the market for a new potions master, would you be so kind as to join me?"

Harry got to his feet, ignoring the blinding pain that movement caused him and was ready to punch Voldemort in the throat when something odd happened.

Voldemort started couching violently, blood oozing from his mouth.

"Why isn't it working?" He asked. He almost sounded desperate. But even if Harry had wanted to, he could not explain what went wrong.

Voldemort fell to his knees and grasped helplessly at his wounds. There was no way for him to stop the flow of blood that soaked his robes and streamed through his unsteady fingers. He locked gazes with Harry and broke through his occlumency shields once more, desperate to find out in what kind of trap he had fallen. But he only found more confusion and pain in the boy. There were no solutions there.

His entire body convulsed and then, without warning, Voldemort dropped dead right in front of Harry.

What in the world was going on? Harry looked at Voldemort who lay face down in the mud and glanced back over at Snape who still seemed equally dead. Harry frowned and turned Voldemort's body over with no small effort to double-check the dark wizard's condition.

His life had definitely expired. The potion hadn't worked. Perhaps Snape had already been too far gone for the healing effects to activate.

Harry felt as if he should be celebrating. It had taken decades but the scourge of the wizarding world had finally perished. And tt had come at a cost Harry had not been willing to pay. He sank to the ground and pulled his knees up to his chest.

And there – between the two corpses of people who had defined his life – he wept.

* * *

Harry didn't know how long he had been sitting there when he felt a hand touch his shoulder. He glanced up to meet the twinkling gaze of a smiling Dumbledore.

"Professor," Harry uttered, not sure what to say.

"You did so well, my boy," Dumbledore said proudly. "You truly are remarkable."

Harry shook his head violently. "I am nothing," he breathed. "Because of me, Severus is – he is –" Harry couldn't bring himself to say it. Instead, he wiped his face on his sleeve.

"About that," Dumbledore said evenly, smiling as if nothing was amiss. "Earlier today, Severus had a curious request for me."

Dumbledore took a bottle from within his robe and uncorked it. Harry frowned when Dumbledore approached Snape's body with it.

"What are you –"

"He asked of me to administer the Wiggenweld Potion to him should I find him dead within the next few weeks," Dumbledore said. "Who knew that I would need to do so this very same day."

Harry sniffed. "He didn't drink the draught of living death, Professor," he said. "He drank something I created." The guilt was evident in his voice but Dumbledore ignored it.

"It can do no harm in any case," Dumbledore said kindly. "And it was Severus' last request."

Harry just nodded. He didn't trust himself to speak at that moment. He glanced over at Snape again and frowned. That gash across his abdomen had been bigger, hadn't it?

Dumbledore kneeled beside his faithful friend and lifted Snape's upper body to lean against his chest. In what almost appeared to be a loving embrace, he poured the potion down Snape's throat all the while smiling serenely.

With a feeling of trepidation, Harry looked at the two powerful wizards as they sat there. One alive and one still very much dead.

Except, he wasn't dead at all.

Out of the blue, Snape took in a deep, shuddering breath and started coughing violently while Dumbledore kept him upright.

"It's alright, Severus," Dumbledore soothed. "You're alright."

"Where's Harry?" Snape asked painfully.

"If you would kindly turn your head a bit to the right, you could see him for yourself," Dumbledore said happily.

Snape locked his gaze with Harry's, relief visibly washing over him. Meanwhile, Harry could only open and close his mouth as if he were a fish on dry land.

"You're hurt," Snape said suddenly, trying to get up. Dumbledore helped him to do so.

"So are you," Harry said calmly. Too calmly. Was he in shock? "You are dead," he added.

"I don't believe that I am," Snape smirked. "But I'll explain everything later. We should go inside and get you fixed up." He glared at the undignified corpse of Voldemort and sneered. "How the mighty have fallen, indeed."

Harry took his wand back from the bloody corpse. He took Voldemort's as well just to be on the safe side.

"Severus, I have some bad news," Dumbledore said softly.

"Is everyone okay?" Harry interjected worriedly.

"Everyone is fine, Harry," Dumbledore said gently. "Though Severus' house-elf got injured while she was fighting off Bellatrix. She will be fine in the end."

"What is it?" Snape asked wearily. "Spit it out."

"Your house is very much destroyed," Dumbledore said. "And I admit that I was one of the main reasons for that."

Snape sighed. "If that is all that has been lost today, I count myself very fortunate."

"That's the spirit," Dumbledore said supportively. "Now let's get you two to what remains of the house. The floo still works and I need to get you two to St. Mungo's."

"No," Harry groaned. "As soon as the press hears about Voldemort's death they'll be after us like lions are after a gazelle."

Dumbledore laughed heartily at the comparison. "Will the medical wing in Hogwarts do instead?" he asked.

"I believe that would be agreeable," Snape said weakly. Though the wound on his abdomen was significantly less serious, it was still there. Harry still wondered what was going on.

With a swish of his wand, Dumbledore wrapped Voldemort's body in his own tattered cloak and banished him somewhere.

"To the ministry," Dumbledore explained when Harry threw him a questioning look.

The road back to the house was not long but it was difficult with two of the three wizards gravely injured. The only healthy one being over a century old did not help either. Eventually, Dumbledore ended up levitating Harry while supporting Snape. The potions master did not think it dignified to go floating after all.

Harry kept throwing Snape worried glances, not only because of his injuries but because he didn't understand how the wizard was still alive. Not only that, but the Potions Master didn't appear the least bit surprised.

When the house came into view, Harry gulped. The roof was completely gone. Not a single shingle remained. The second floor had completely collapsed into itself leaving only the first-floor standing but there was a wall missing; all the windows were shattered and some parts of what was probably the sitting room looked as if they had been burning.

"Oh no," Harry uttered.

"It's alright, Harry," Snape said. "Don't worry about it. There are always other options."

"But wasn't that house your family's?" Harry asked softly.

"It was," Snape said. "Which is why it's really no big loss."

Snape stumbled a little when Dumbledore helped him over the threshold but didn't fall. Despite his age, Dumbledore still had strength in him.

"The Order members have all left already," Dumbledore explained. "Some to take away the captured death eaters and others to get treated for their injuries. None were fatal or as bad as yours so they should be fine."

"While that is all very interesting, Albus," Snape spoke. "I would rather you just take us to the hospital wing before Potter faints on the spot."

While Harry didn't feel too great and ached all over, he wasn't about to pass out. Snape, on the other hand, had a vacant kind of look to him that didn't bode well. He was probably too proud to admit it but he desperately needed help.

"Very well," Dumbledore agreed. With some floo powder he carried on his person, he crammed himself into the fireplace with both Snape and Harry in tow and brought them all safely back to Hogwarts.

* * *

As soon as the trio stumbled into the hospital wing, Dumbledore practically pushed Snape onto a bed.

"Poppy!" he shouted. "Could you please come out?"

"She's still here?" Harry asked.

"Poppy has only just returned from what I hear was a magnificent trip to Japan," Dumbledore replied, his eyes twinkling. "I asked her to come here in case we would need her before I travelled to Cokeworth with the Order."

At that moment, Madame Pomfrey hurried into the room, her eyes surveying the three wizards standing and sitting there.

"Albus, you are not hurt I take it?" She said hurriedly.

"Nothing but a minor cut to my index finger," he said, showing the Mediwitch his 'injury'.

"Well then, get out of the way already," she barked. Dumbledore chuckled and went to sit in a chair that didn't stand in Poppy's path but not before transfiguring it into a more comfortable version of itself.

"Take care of Harry first, Poppy," Snape said when he saw the witch approach him.

"Are you daft?" Madame Pomfrey exclaimed. "You're on the verge of collapsing! Harry, get in a bed. I'll be right with you. But first –" she redirected her attention to Snape, "I will need to fix you up. And you better cooperate. I will stun you if I need to."

Still mumbling his protests, Snape leaned back into his pillow.

"Complain all you want. It will get you nowhere. Now take off your shirt."

Snape glared at the witch before mumbling something too soft for Harry to hear. Madame Pomfrey caught it, though. She sighed and waved her wand, causing Snape's robes and shirt to vanish.

She cast a diagnostic charm on the man and carefully read through the results that appeared in front of her as if in a transparent book. Harry was _still_ half expecting her to proclaim the man dead but Madame Pomfrey simply nodded and got to work.

An hour of work and a lot of potions later, Snape lay bandaged and grumpy in bed, his arms crossed in silent consternation.

"Mr Potter," Madame Pomfrey sighed. "You have been in here more times than I can count. I can only imagine what was the cause of your injuries today."

"Same as always," Harry shrugged. "Voldemort trying to kill me again."

Madame Pomfrey clicked her tongue in annoyance while Snape scowled dangerously. Dumbledore, on the other hand, could not suppress a chuckle.

The witch cast a diagnostic charm on Harry as well and grimaced when she saw the results.

"Not as bad as Severus was," she said. "But you must be in tremendous pain. Your elbow is dislocated as well as broken and several of the tendons in your leg were severed. Never mind the number of cuts and bruises you sustained."

She spelled his clothes away save his boxers causing Harry to quickly cover himself up with the blanket in dismay.

"Madame Pomfrey!" he exclaimed in embarrassment.

"Oh, honestly!" Madame Pomfrey said exasperatedly. "You go around battling Death Eaters as well as the darkest wizard of our time with no qualms but as soon as someone might see your tighty whities you take cover?"

Snape laughed. "Gryffindors."

Soon, Harry too was taken care of for as much as was possible at that time. The fractures and internal injuries in both wizards would take some more time to heal so they were both ordered to stay put. That was fine by Harry. They had a lot to talk about and Harry was dying to get some answers.

Apparently, so was Dumbledore.

As soon as Madame Pomfrey left for her office – ordering Dumbledore to not take too much time since her patients needed rest – Dumbledore's questioning of the events began. Or so it would have, had Harry not jumped the gun.

"What the bloody hell happened?" Harry asked.

"Language," Snape admonished.

"Seriously?" Harry replied. "We just defeated Voldemort but I should watch my language?"

"Defeating a dark wizard does not give one permission to make use of foul language," Snape said evenly.

"Does watching your father-figure die?" Harry growled back. Snape seemed taken aback by that question but was rescued by Dumbledore.

"Gentlemen, please. I feel like a more structured form of dialogue would be prudent," he said but there was a happy twinkle in his eyes.

"Indeed," Snape agreed. It was clear that he was tired but Harry needed answers. He kept his mouth shut to let Dumbledore do his thing.

"So Severus. Let's start with that potion Harry has been speaking about. What does it do?" Dumbledore asked.

"It's a potion of Harry's invention," Snape replied. "It allows for one drinker to heal any and all wounds – or so we thought – while the other drinker irrevocably dies."

A small battle seemed to ensue within the headmaster in which pride in Harry's ability was in conflict with sadness for what he had created. Pride seemed to win out in the end and the twinkle came back twice as fierce.

"And how did you manage to get Voldemort to drink it?" Dumbledore asked.

Snape sighed. "Let me just explain everything from the beginning. Without interruption, please. It will be faster that way."

Dumbledore gestured for him to begin.

"When Harry had first created this potion, I destroyed it immediately. I, of course, knew what his intention would be and could not allow it. I thought I made it clear to him why I did not want him to have it but he clearly did not listen for when he visited Mr Weasley, my house-elf explained to me that Harry had created a second batch."

Harry wrung his hands nervously but didn't comment.

"I wanted to destroy it as well but I realized that nothing would stop Harry from recreating the potion until his entire fortune had been spent on ingredients. So I thought of another way to stop this stupid boy from throwing away his own life. I switched the potions. That is, I cast an illusion charm on both potions to each reflect the colour of the other. Then, thinking it might be used in battle someday, I added a few drops of the draught of the living dead to the 'Life' part of the potion. Should Harry ever take it, his enemies would think him dead. That was my reasoning."

Understanding was beginning to dawn on Harry but more needed to be explained.

"When Harry came back from his visit, I wanted to tell him what an irresponsible and disobedient brat he had been when we were attacked by the death eaters. We held off for a while but I was injured. I admit that this was not part of my plan. When you came along –" He gestured towards Dumbledore, "and saved us, we tried to make an escape, foolishly thinking that Voldemort himself would show up at the house. Clearly, that was not the plan."

"I admit that he had us fooled," Dumbledore agreed.

Snape ignored Dumbledore's interruption and continued his story. "During our escape, Harry had the gall to collect his potions, leaving me no time to object.

Harry at least had the decency to divert his gaze for a few seconds as if he were a child being scolded which was not far from the truth.

"In order to apparate away, we needed to get outside of the wards I placed around my home. Unfortunately, I had recently extended them so we had a ways to go. We got pretty far by means of a secret tunnel I still had in place but were swarmed by dementors as soon as we resurfaced. We both summoned our Patroni -"

"That must have been a sight to behold," Dumbledore commented, gazing into the distance. "A doe and a stag."

"Albus," Snape chided but Dumbledore just chuckled, popping a lemon drop into his mouth.

"As I was saying," Snape continued pointedly. "As soon as we fought off the dementors, we encountered the Dark Lord. And while I was already quite certain that we would have a hard time winning, it became less likely the longer the battle went on. So I came up with a plan and it involved Harry's potions."

"Somehow, Harry had managed to catch the Dark Lord off guard with a spell he learned earlier this summer. We took our chances and both fired a well-placed curse to injure him severely. Nothing he wouldn't be able to live through with the help of his dark crew but severe enough to at least instil some panic. That's when I made use of Harry's horrid occlumency skills under pressure."

"Hey!" Harry objected. "I became better at it!"

"And yet," Snape spat. "You are still lousy as soon as you get emotional."

Harry pouted and crossed his arms earning nothing but an eye roll from Snape.

"So you were saying," Dumbledore urged.

"I told Harry loudly to occlude," Snape explained. "Which made the Dark Lord think that there was something worth hiding. He ventured into Harry's mind without any trouble and found out about the potion which was at the forefront of his mind because I got hurt. He also saw how close the both of us had become and tried to make use of our relationship by threatening me with killing Harry. You saw the result. The draught of living death only helped in fooling the Dark Lord that his plan worked. Thank Merlin that he's so arrogant."

"Hold on," Harry said. "Why wouldn't Voldemort have told _me_ to drink the potion instead? Why you?"

"That's why I needed to be injured as gravely as I was," Snape explained. "Not only did it distract you from using occlumency, it also made sure that Voldemort could not threaten to kill me if you didn't comply. After all, I was basically already dead."

"You could have died!" Harry shouted. "You didn't even heal. The potion was a bust!"

"I healed," Snape said. "If only a little. I suspect that the Dark Lord was too injured to provide me with enough energy to aptly heal my wounds. A flaw none of us had anticipated. It was enough to keep me from death's door, though."

"Why did Professor Dumbledore know to give you the antidote?" Harry followed up, his mind reeling.

"I had anticipated an attack like the one that happened today and I have to admit that I had already thought of the plan I just unravelled as an option. Knowing that either Harry or I might be drinking the draught, I needed to alert Albus to always keep the antidote on him."

Harry frowned. "But why-" he choked back a sob. This was getting to be too much for him.

"Why what?" Snape urged, noticing Harry's distress.

"Why did you say those things?" Harry asked. "Like that it wasn't my fault and stuff. If you didn't anticipate dying."

"I was putting on a show," Snape said exasperatedly. "The Dark Lord needed to trust that I believed I was going to die."

"Well, you put on one hell of a show," Harry murmured. "Git."

"Fifty points from Gryffindor," Snape snarled.

Harry rolled his eyes. "School hasn't even started yet."

"Well in that case," Snape continued. "Three hundred points to Gryffindor for defeating the Dark Lord."

"Excellent idea, Severus," Dumbledore said. "I'll be sure to allocate those at the start of the new year."

Snape blanched a little.

"Do you have any idea what you put me through?" Harry asked, clearly upset.

"Really?" Snape countered. "How dare you. This is the kind of thing _you_ put _me_ through on a weekly basis."

"Time to go," Madame Pomfrey suddenly hissed as she approached the headmaster.

"Poppy," Dumbledore said cheerily. "Could I bribe you with a lemon drop?"

"No," came the curt reply. "Now make like a tree and leave before I give you a reason to stay here."

Dumbledore chuckled. "As you say, Poppy. Do take good care of my boys."

"I always do," Madame Pomfrey replied as she practically pushed Dumbledore out the door. She turned to her two patients next. "Now you two will allow each other to rest or I will put you each on separate sides of the room. Understand?"

She received two silent nods before she retreated into her office.

It remained silent for a while and Harry became sure that Snape had fallen asleep when he was spoken to.

"I regret scaring you," Snape said. "I certainly didn't mean to cause you any more anguish. You've certainly experienced enough of that in your life."

"I know," Harry sighed. "So did you."

"I did," Snape agreed. "But it's over now. Apart from a few stray death eaters that are honestly all worse duellers then I am, there is nothing left to be worried about."

"Except for Quidditch," Harry offered.

"And Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers," Snape added.

"If you won't be quiet this instant, I will spell you to be so!" Madame Pomfrey suddenly said, looming over Harry and Snape with her hands on her hips.

Snape and Harry shared an amused look before replying sheepishly.

"Sorry Madame Pomfrey," Harry said.

"My apologies, Poppy," Snape echoed.

They dared not open their mouths again but were content in their shared understanding.

* * *

**One week Later**

* * *

Harry sat in the sitting room, reading a book on potions. His birthday was right around the corner and would be arranged in the burrow. This time, Snape would attend his party with him instead of hiding in a tower.

Snape sat in front of the piano, practising some tunes. He hadn't played for many years but was eager to start again.

"What colour did the master bedroom need to be, Severus?" Alex asked, popping his head around the corner.

"Black, I'd wager," Harry chuckled.

"December Eve," Snape replied.

"Will do!" Came the hasty response before Alex ran up the stairs again.

Since Snape's house had been completely destroyed, he and Harry moved into the one other property he had to his name. That happened to be the Evans residence. It had been old and decrepit but as soon as the people in the neighbourhood had heard about the misfortune Snape had had with a _gas leak_, they were all more than eager to help out with cleaning, repairing things and even redecorating.

And with Zippy out of order for at least another month, the pair of wizards were glad to accept the help. Harry learned that Snape had been helping the townsfolk out for many years with his potions. He had one for all that ailed them and never asked for anything in return. What would a man who already had everything even ask? He had even invented some new potions to help with some muggle-like ailments that wizards didn't normally need a cure for.

That was what the random visits had been about.

But now they all repaid Snape's kindness with hard work and the older people who couldn't help out would just cook both of them all sorts of goodies to last them for days on end. It helped them in their recovery.

Harry had claimed Lily's room without any arguments from Snape. The room had been painted in a chocolaty brown with one wall sporting a very Gryffindorian crimson. Out of the rubble of what used to be his bedroom, Harry had managed to retrieve his music box that seemed remarkably unscathed as well as his Firebolt and invisibility cloak. Most of his other belongings had been destroyed but were replaced by the ministry. The minister had been more than eager to repay the hero of the wizarding world as best as he could.

Even though Harry had insisted that the defeat of Voldemort was at least a joint effort, the ministry had still used him as a poster child, barely mentioning Snape. But that was exactly how Snape wanted it.

Since their location had been completely unknown, reporters hadn't managed to track them down yet, though owls had delivered plenty of letters. So much so that Alex had asked if Harry and Snape had opened an owl sanctuary.

* * *

Harry took another bite of the delicious banana bread Mrs Barkins had made them, making a sound of contentment.

"Don't get used to it," Snape said. "As soon as we can get on by ourselves, we will refuse any more help."

"Why?" Harry asked. "They just want to show their gratitude."

"They don't have much, Harry," Snape explained. "I don't need them to share as I am quite capable of providing for myself and you. Besides, I don't need gratitude for their services as my test subjects."

Harry chuckled. "Once upon a time, I might have believed those were your intentions," he said. "But you don't fool me anymore."

"You're the only one who I don't want fooled," Snape said, smiling genuinely.

"Does that mean you'll still be cruel to me in class?" Harry asked.

Snape smirked. "I don't think that will be entirely necessary anymore as long as you behave yourself. We shall see."

"I hope that next year will be quieter. I might even be able to stay out of the hospital wing for once." Harry sighed dreamily.

"You sure dream big," Snape chuckled. "Whatever you encounter, I will be there right alongside you."

"I know," Harry smiled, "Thanks."

* * *

_So if you can believe it: this is the end. I didn't kill Snape. I couldn't possibly have! But it was nice to give you all a scare. I hope the ending was satisfying._

_Don't worry. There is so much more I want to write. I am bursting with ideas for more Harry/Snape mentor stories and would like – alongside with your thoughts on my story – your opinion of what sounds most appealing._

I could write a sequel to this story. There are plenty of open situations that I could explore though I would have to work that out.

The tower of Gryffindor burns down so all of those students need to be taken in by the other houses. A resorting will happen and naturally, Harry ends up in Slytherin.

After an accident with accidental magic, Dudley needs to stay at St Mungo's. To keep the secret of magic hidden from folks outside of the Dursley home, Snape is forced to Polyjuice into Dudley without Harry's knowledge. (**I went with this one**)

At the end of the canon books, Harry feels appalled with how Snape's life ended. He travels back in time to try and get a happier ending for the man and ends up back in year (1?)

Snape relinquishes his son to Lily and James in the future with the mother dead and him in Voldemort's grasp, using James' guilt and Lily's friendship to have them take Harry in. he obliviates himself to keep the secret safe from Voldemort and will find out when Harry is in (third?) grade.

_In the meantime – to fill the Snape-shaped hole in your hearts – I would like to recommend to you the best Snape/Harry mentor fic I have ever read. It's low on fluff but super high in angst! Best fic I've ever had the pleasure of reading._

_**Theowyn of HPG**__ is the author and the story is __**Harry Potter and the Enemy Within**__. There is also a sequel which is equally good. _

_But don't run off there without sending me a review first! Thanks for sticking around all this time._

_MS_

**Last revised on 12/07/2020**


	41. Sequel warning

Hi everyone!

One of my reviewers thought it might be a good idea to alert those interested that there is already a sequel up called 'The Potions Journeyman'.

So head there if you care! Hey, that rhymed

In any case thanks to all who liked this story. It took me a while to write but I enjoyed doing so thoroughly! Your reviews kept me interested and motivated as well so it was also because of all of you that this story reached completion.


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